


less defined as days go by

by brawlite



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Weird Stuff Eating, Chocolate, Coping, Depression, Developing Relationship, Eddie Brock is Trying His Hardest, Emotional Constipation, Food, Loneliness, Multi, Navigating Relationship Dynamics, Other, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Venom (Movie 2018), Relationship Negotiations, Sharing a Body, The Visceral Feeling of Cronching Down on a Whole Mussel, Touch-Starved, Yum, consumption of non-food, if you're only here for the symbrock you can just read the first couple chapters, occasional loss of bodily autonomy, slow build because eddie is stubborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-08-03 07:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlite/pseuds/brawlite
Summary: Eddie's not alone, but he's still kinda lonely.Venom, Anne, and Dan are working on it. Patiently. Very, very patiently.





	1. Area Man Finally Works Up Courage To Actually Enjoy Himself Despite Detailed Plans To Do The Opposite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Subtitle** : _Attempt At Being Normal Human Ruined By The Delicious Cronch Of Non-Consumable Objects_

Annie calls him every Tuesday to check in.

It’s more than Eddie deserves, really. But he’s known Anne for a long time now, longer than anyone else currently in his life, and maybe she thinks she owes it to him. Eddie doesn’t think she owes him anything; it’s Eddie who owes her. Even after _sorry_ , he knows he’ll never be able to fill that void. But she calls anyway, and Eddie always picks up.

Dan calls him on Fridays.

In the mornings, right after his first surgery of the day. Sometimes it’s real early, sometimes it’s later -- at a more reasonable time. Regardless of when he calls, though, Eddie answers. It’s never a long conversation, just a quick little catch-up. Very doctor-patient, very Anne’s current boyfriend talking to Anne’s ex-fiancé. That kind of thing.

Regardless, it’s kind of nice not to feel alone.

Not that he’s ever really _alone_ anymore.

So -- maybe, more accurately: it’s nice to feel cared for. Like there’s people out there in the world looking out for him.

Back when it had just been Annie and Eddie, Eddie hadn’t really _had_ anyone else. He hadn’t had time for friends, not in between filming and researching for his job, and trying to piece together a relationship with someone who was too good for him. Most of his time and energy had been spent trying to measure up and constantly coming up short. Now? Eddie’s got all the time in the world.

“Hey V?”

_**Yes, Eddie?** _

“Do you ever get lonely?”

Even with Anne, Eddie used to sometimes get lonely.

He doesn’t, anymore.

It’s kind of _weird_.

_**Not now that I’m with you.** _

Eddie thinks, a couple months ago, Venom wouldn’t have admitted to that. When he was still posturing a little, when their status together was still a little rocky. Now, they feel better. More synergetic, more united. Sure, it’s still _bumpy_ sometimes -- but all relationships are. It helps that they’ve got an insight into each other’s consciousnesses -- which can also be frustrating, too.

“But, you like Anne. You like spending time with Anne,” Eddie says.

_**I do.** _

“And,” Eddie tries, a little cautious. “You like Dan, too.”

Venom’s always been a little touchy about Dan. It didn’t help that, in the beginning, _Eddie_ didn’t like Dan, so Venom’s first taste, first _vibe_ of the guy had been sour. Laced with Eddie’s resentment and jealousy. And Venom’s good at that -- picking up on Eddie’s feelings and emotions and preferences. He usually goes along with them, too. And he’s kind of more hesitant to _forgive and forget_ than Eddie is.

It also doesn’t help that Dan works with _death equipment_ , as Venom likes to call it. They both still, rather _acutely_ , remember their little mishap with the MRI machine.

_**Dan is fine.** _

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “But, I mean, you don’t want to _eat_ him anymore, which is kinda a ringing endorsement for you. I think you _like_ him.”

After all, Venom’s the one who sometimes drags Eddie from a sound sleep to pick up Dan’s phone calls on Fridays. Especially after some nights of hard drinking, when Eddie knows he wouldn’t normally wake up. And yeah, he would feel _bad_ about that -- but he doesn’t have to, because Venom’s got him.

 _ **Dan is fine** , _Venom repeats. It echoes in Eddie’s head a little bit, this time, like Venom’s trying to be particularly loud about it. Firm.

Eddie knows him well enough to know _that’s_ a decoy, a slip-up if he’s ever heard one.

“Okay, _Dan’s fine_ ,” Eddie says, figuring it’s sometimes best to just let Venom think he’s won.

Venom loves Anne. He’s like a big, overjoyed puppy at the prospect of seeing her, of talking to her, of _anything_ to do with Anne. But he doesn’t love Anne the way Eddie used to love Anne: desperate, foolhardy, hopeless. With every fiber of his being. Anne was -- everything to Eddie. An end, a beginning, an answer to the empty feeling that lived inside of him, the inadequacy of being Eddie Brock.

Eddie’s not inadequate anymore.

He’s more than one, more than whole. Not lacking -- overflowing.

It’s strange.

He doesn’t feel lonely, but he still eats up the feeling that people _care_ about him, starving for it like Venom is for flesh. It’s so new, so delicious, so comforting.

It’s even _more_ enticing, knowing that Anne and Dan care about the both of them, at least to some extent. Venom wasn’t a secret Eddie could keep for too long; Anne and Dan are too smart, too quick. Or maybe Eddie’s just bad at lying to people he cares about.

The market in Chinatown is already bustling by six AM on a Friday.

Eddie hasn’t slept yet -- Venom had been _hungry_ , which meant Eddie had spent most of his night wandering around the seedier areas of the city, looking for people who didn’t need their licenses’ for life anymore. He’s not _tired_ though. Venom gives him plenty of energy to plow through -- especially on a full stomach.

The phone rings as Eddie’s crouching by a tank of snow crabs -- all slender legs and spindly bits.

“Hey Dan,” Eddie says, tapping on the tank. The crabs flinch away from the sound.

“ _Morning Eddie,”_ Dan says in his ear, tinny and echoing. “ _How’s it going?”_

 _How’s the alien parasite that lives inside your brain?_ Eddie helpfully hears.

“Good. It’s goin’ good.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks.

“Same ol’,” Eddie says. “Look, I’m at the market and they’ve got mussels. I’m gonna pick some up for you and Anne?”

It’s a question because Eddie doesn’t know what the two of them do, what their schedules looks like these days. You’re supposed to eat mussels fast, he knows. But Dan and Annie won’t get to them as fast as he would; last time, Eddie made it two blocks away from the market before sitting down with a large bag of still-live mussels, eating them like slimy pistachios. He can still feel the crunch of their shells in his fingers, their slime on his tongue.

He _tells_ himself that he’s not going go buy this nice old lady clean out of crabs and eat them on the way home -- but who’s he kidding? He’s absolutely going to do just that. Maybe he'll try and leave her with _some_.

It’s better than eels, which Venom _really_ likes to swallow whole.

“ _Mussels? That would be great, Eddie.”_

“Okay, uh,” Eddie says, still staring at the crabs. “You want anything else?”

“ _Buy enough for you, too. You can come over for dinner tonight_ ,” Dan says. “ _If you’re free.”_

“Uh, no I’m -- that’s okay.”

As much as Eddie likes that they call, that they check up on him, they don’t really _hang out_. Eddie doesn’t _want_ to hang out. It would be kind of sad, right? Hanging out in his old place, chatting with his ex-fiancée and her new boyfriend.

“We’d like to have you over, Eddie. Please?”

“ _ **Yes,**_ ” Venom says, too fast for Eddie to stop him.

“Wait, _no_.” Eddie says. “We -- uh, we’re busy tonight.”

“ _ **We’re not** ,” _Venom says, into the phone.

The _crabs_ probably don’t think Eddie’s crazy, but anyone who might be listening to him probably does. _Dan_ probably does, even though he _knows_ the situation.

And the weird thing is that Venom doesn’t usually talk directly to Dan. He makes Eddie pick up the phone, maybe sometimes says _hello_ , if Eddie’s brain isn’t quite caught up yet, but he doesn’t really _talk_ to Dan.

“ _Oh-kay,_ ” Dan says, real slow. But there’s no fear there, just patient hesitation. “ _See you around seven, then?_ ”

“Okay,” Eddie says, resigned, because at least he knows a futile argument when he sees it.

“ _Great_ ,” Dan says, and then there’s silence from the phone.

“Man, _really_?” Eddie asks,

_**Companionship is important to you. Humans are herd creatures.** _

“That’s not the right word for it,” Eddie says.

He’s not about to tell Venom that _pack_ would be a better word. Sometimes, it’s not really _worth_ arguing semantics with an alien parasite.

It would make sense that Venom thinks of humans more like cattle than like wolves, though.

_**My point stands.** _

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie hisses under his breath. “And you know it.”

He buys the whole tank of crabs and eats them before he gets home.

\--

Dinner is mussels in lemongrass coconut milk.

Dan is, of course, an awesome cook.

Which is probably for the best, because Annie was never great in the kitchen. Maybe she’s learning, with Dan, but when she and Eddie were together, they’d been pretty on par. Which, like, Eddie’s never gonna burn the house down cooking -- but he’s also never going to make _mussels in lemongrass coconut milk_ , either. He makes a mean mac-n-cheese, though. From the box, but _still_. He adds broccoli and extra cheese and everything.

Anyway.

Eddie eats more at dinner than he should, probably.

But then again, he _did_ buy a lot of mussels, and Anne and Dan can only eat so many, and he _is_ trying to actively avoid having to participate much in the conversation by having his mouth full of food at the most opportune of moments.

“How’s work going, Eddie?” Anne asks.

Eddie shrugs. Same old. He chews, mouth full.

“Anything else new?” Dan asks.

 _Chew_. Another shrug.

“How’s Venom?” Anne asks.

Eddie shoves a whole mussel into his mouth without thinking, biting down, shell and all.

Annie and Dan flinch. And then shudder, the sound of shell against teeth probably worse than nails on a chalkboard. The feeling really isn’t all that peachy, either.

And Eddie can’t exactly spit his poor decision out right here at the table into his hand, so he just crunches through it, feeling just as horrified as his hosts look.

His teeth are a little longer, a little sharper, a little harder than usual.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Eddie says, once he’s swallowed, not real concerned about appearances, here.

 _ **That was all you**_.

“ _Fuck you_ ,” he whispers, under his breath. “Sorry,” Eddie says.

Venom just _laughs_.

Somehow, _somehow_ , though, that seems to have broken the tension in the air.

After that, everything flows more smoothly. Maybe because nothing could be quite as bad as having to listen to a man crunch his way through an entire bivalve and then swallow.

Eddie talks about his new story. It’s nothing big, and nothing too exciting, but he’s looking into some corporate embezzlement from a pharmaceutical company based nearby. It’s a big name kinda place, some huge up-and-comer on the market, so it’ll be a big story once Eddie’s done with it. The real plus side is that since it’s not mob-related, nor alien-related, he doesn’t _really_ have to watch his back on this one. It’s pretty clear-cut. In, and out -- and then get-paid.

Dan talks about some of his more charming patients of the day, sharing funny little anecdotes from the hospital like he sometimes does when he’s on the phone with Eddie on Friday mornings.

He’s got a good voice, good for telling stories, for keeping Eddie entertained. He’s articulate too, but not in the kind of way that makes Eddie feel stupid, which was always a problem with some of Anne’s old coworkers. After a few times socializing with them, Eddie had just started straight-up refusing. But Dan’s not from some corporate law-firm. He never talks down to Eddie. Has never _looked_ down at him, either, from what Eddie can tell.

And he’s a little more observant now that he’s got Venom, too.

Anne lets them talk, cutting in when she’s got something to add. Eddie used to like hearing about her cases -- what she could tell him, anyway. But she’s a little more tight-lipped these days. Maybe because she’s pro-bono. Maybe because Eddie doesn’t deserve that kind of trust.

Honestly, he’s just happy to have her back in his life. He’s lucky she trusts him enough to let him in her house again.

Eddie’s telling them about how he’s looking for new apartments while Venom churns happily away at the back of his head, content and quiet, just a low and pleasant rumbling at the very base of Eddie’s consciousness.

“Same neighborhood?” Dan asks.

“You could find something a little -- better,” Anne suggests.

“Same neighborhood,” Eddie says. “It’s not good, but it, uh, works.”

Really, the murder rate has gone down in the last couple of months.

Thanks to Venom, mostly.

Mr. Belvedere jumps into Eddie’s lap. He almost startles, but Venom holds him steady, which is a weird feeling in and of itself.

_**A snack?** _

“ _No!_ ” Eddie hisses. “Not a snack!”

He pets over Mr. Belvedere’s head while trying to ignore the truly horrified looks he knows he’s getting from Anne and Dan. Mr. Belvedere, who truly never did like Eddie much, starts purring. Hunkering down immediately, fat and happy across Eddie’s thighs, unaware (or perhaps uncaring) of any danger he might be in. It’s kind of affirming, really. Like, if the _cat_ wants him here, who’s Eddie to protest?

_**Soft.** _

“Yeah, buddy. Soft.”

“You okay, Eddie?” Annie asks, quiet. Her fingers settle on Eddie’s arm and his skin tingles where they land.

Venom hums happily, loud and full-bodied, like the comforting rumble of Eddie’s bike.

“‘M good,” Eddie says, because he is. He’s got the cat, and he’s got good food, and he’s got Anne and Dan at the table across from him. And he’s got Venom, too. There’s nothing else he wants for, nothing else he needs. He feels _content_. Feels whole. Feels cared for.

It’s been a long time, he realizes.

A little while later, after Dan’s cleared up the table ( _Oh, I can uh -- help_ , Eddie had said, only to be shushed by Anne, Dan, _and_ Venom -- who just wanted to continue petting the cat), they talk about going down to the beach next weekend.

“Would you like to come with us?” Anne asks, before Eddie can even truly _wonder_ why they’re talking about their couple-weekend plans with a guest there.

“Uh,” Eddie says. “That’s okay.”

“ _ **Yes**_ ,” Venom hums through Eddie’s teeth.

“Do you want to help me with dessert?” Anne offers, pushing her way out of her chair, hand folding over Eddie’s shoulder.

And _obviously_ he does, because _obviously_ Eddie would do anything for Annie, especially if it means she keeps touching him all casually like that. Like they’re _friends_ , like maybe she’s on the way back to trusting him again. It feels good, like aloe on a burn, like getting a second, undeserved chance at getting her in his life again.

 _ **Chocolate**_ , Venom says, the second Anne pulls out a dark chocolate tart from the fridge.

Eddie can’t help but let Venom step close and breathe it in.

There’s _fudge brownie batter_ on top of the tart. It looks like the kind of thing Anne would call _lethal_ and then proceed to eat three pieces of.

“I know he likes chocolate,” Anne says. “And I know you do, too.”

Annie lets him eat a piece in the kitchen before they even bring dessert out to the table. Annie drizzles warm chocolate sauce over their plates and places a heaping handful of strawberries on each.

It’s amazing. Eddie eats two more slices before he’s done, powering through each one as Anne and Dan use the strawberries on their own plates to mop up the chocolate sauce.

It’s nice and it’s quiet and it’s pleasant, but all Eddie can focus on is the way Dan’s teeth sink slowly into soft fruit. The way Anne’s tongue catches the juice that drips from her lips.

“I should head out. Getting late,” Eddie says, feeling too warm underneath his skin.

They don’t argue. He’s not sure how he feels about that, other than grateful, in the end, for not needing to make another excuse before he’s _actually_ caught staring.

“Come back soon, Eddie,” Anne says, at the door.

She hugs him. Her warmth lingers.

Before he can squeeze out the door, Dan hugs him too. For a split second, Eddie’s concerned Venom’s going to protest, going to come at Dan like he did in the hospital. He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t even _warn_ Eddie, even though he _must_ have known it was coming.

Eddie lets Dan hug him, then slips out the door to the breezy night air.

\--

_**That wasn’t so bad, now was it?** _

Eddie walks home because he walked there to begin with, too restless to take his bike, needing to stretch his legs to keep the nerves of the impending dinner at bay. He still feels the same now, except he’s not _nervous_ , he’s just full of _energy_. Like the two bottles of nice wine they drank their way through did _nothing_ to quell the electricity churning in the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

“It was fine,” Eddie say, hands stuffed into his pockets.

_**It was better than fine. It was very pleasant.** _

Eddie snorts.

 _Pleasant_. Sheesh. Who even _is_ this guy?

“It was _fine_ ,” Eddie says.

Even though -- Venom’s right. It _was_ nice. It was a damn fucking nice evening, and despite _everything_ , Eddie found that he enjoyed himself. It had felt _good_.

You know, up until the point Eddie started staring at their mouths. At the lips and the teeth and the tongues of his ex-fiancée and her current boyfriend. Like _that’s_ not weird. He’s not even sure who to blame for that one -- Venom, or himself.

And _sure_ , weirder things have happened to him in the past few months -- but it’s still fucking _strange_.

He’s only equipped to handle so much. And he’s already well past his breaking point.

_**You need a herd.** _

“ _Jesus,”_ Eddie says. “I do not need a herd. That’s not a thing. I don’t need a _pack_ either, before you start on that. You gotta stop watching nature documentaries.”

_**Humans are not built to be alone.** _

“I’m not alone,” Eddie scoffs. “I’ve got you. I’m _never_ alone.”

_**Correct. You are mine.** _

“See?” Eddie says, throwing his hands up in the air, ignoring all of the people he’s walking past who are probably -- _definitely_ \-- staring.

Whatever. It’s late. He’s perfectly entitled to pretend to be a drunk person rambling at themselves after ten PM. Everyone else around can screw off. The truth is way weirder, anyway.

_**But they offer a different kind of companionship.** _

“...Are you saying I need a _support-network_?” Incredulous.

_**Yes. You are very emotionally complex.** _

“Aren’t you always talking about how we’re a team, about how we don’t need anybody else?”

_**Yes.** _

“ _Oh-kay_ ,” Eddie says. “So, I don’t need anybody else.”

 _ **True. You don’t**_ need _them, but you are happier with them. It’s not a personal failing_.

Venom articulates ‘ _not a personal failing_ ’ in exactly the same way Eddie’s psychiatrist from 2 years ago articulated that exact phrase. So, there’s _that_. Eddie just loves when Venom goes digging around in his memories and uses his findings against Eddie. It’s super great.

“Can you please stay out of my _head_? Some things are _personal_ , man.”

_**We are one. You don’t have secrets to keep from me.** _

“I mean, I _do_ ,” Eddie says, because he _does_. They’ve been bodymates for a few months now, and it’s been _fine_ \-- but yeah, Eddie’s also not been living life _quite_ to its fullest extent.

Not that he’s really been _suffering_ ; he’s just been _busy._

He hasn’t really had much time to think about the things he’s missing. Besides -- he hasn’t really _wanted_ to. Hasn’t really felt the desire to -- take care of things himself.

_**No, you don’t.** _

“Uh, pretty sure I do.”

_**You don’t. Just because you’re choosing to ignore a significant portion of your bodily desires does not mean that I don’t feel them. I have access to all your memories, Eddie. You do not have any secrets from me.** _

Eddie’s pretty sure it’s dread and shame twisting his stomach up in knots right now, not Venom writhing around inside him.

But he can never really be sure.

“No,” Eddie says, biting down on his cheek. “Come on, tell me you didn’t look through _all_ of my memories, V.”

_**I did.** _

He has the audacity to sound cheeky about it.

 _ **All of them**_.

Eddie groans.

_**You’re unnecessarily limiting yourself. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Eddie.** _

“That’s easy for you to say.”

_**Yes. But when you’re embarrassed, I, too feel something like embarrassment. So, it would be beneficial for us both if you would just get over yourself.** _

“ _Wow_ ,” Eddie says, ducking into a corner store to pick up a couple six packs, because he deserves it for putting up with this conversation. For even allowing this conversation to go on as long as it has, actually “Can we maybe stop talking about this?”

When Eddie gets back to his apartment, with its cracking paint and water-stained ceilings, with its loud neighbors and its pervasive smell of mold, he’s going to drink himself into a _coma_. Or, perhaps more accurately, he’s going to drink until he passes out and Venom takes over and watches more nature documentaries, or whatever it is that he does when Eddie’s unconscious.

_**You can’t simply ignore this.** _

Except that’s where Venom’s wrong.

If there’s anything Eddie’s _great_ at, it’s ignoring problems until they go away.


	2. How To Wine And Dine Your Symbiote When It’s Been Wining And Dining You This Entire Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Subtitle:** _Parasite? Up My Ass? It’s More Likely Than You Think_

Eddie lets the dust settle.

It takes a couple days for Venom to stop pestering him about _repressed urges_ and a few more after that for Eddie to stop feeling a little personally attacked about the whole thing. But after that, it's pretty good.

At least he's got a little time before he even has to think about how he's going to politely, but firmly, turn down Anne and Dan’s offer of going to the beach without Venom interfering and agreeing anyway.

They're a _team_ , Eddie thinks. Except when Venom decides to make all the decisions for him and lets Eddie play catch-up later.

So, he picks up when Anne calls on Tuesday, but doesn't chat long enough to let her ask about the beach.

“Eddie,” she says, near the end of their conversation, and he can _hear_ it, can hear the beginnings of a question in her voice. Can hear the playful hope there, of the prospect of dragging Eddie out of his apartment. He _knows_ her, alright? They were engaged. And he knows when to tap out before it makes him rude.

“Shit. Sorry, Annie. Gotta go,” Eddie says, and hangs up the phone before Venom can do anything to stop him.

_**That was rude.** _

“Uh huh,” Eddie says, pushing his phone into his pocket so that he can busy himself with something else.

 _Anything_ else.

\--

Dan calls later in the day, even though it’s not a Friday.

_**Pick up.** _

It isn’t Friday, right? It takes Eddie a couple reeling moments to adjust, to _recover_ , because Dan’s a pretty meticulous guy, pretty wedded to his routine. Which means that something must be _wrong_ , right? If he’s calling out of his usual routine?

_**Pick it up.** _

Venom is in absolute agreement. Which is almost hilarious, because Venom’s not exactly prone to panic. Maybe later, Eddie will tease him about picking up some of Eddie’s more _human_ character traits -- like anxiety. But now --

“Everything okay?” Eddie says, when he answers the call, static sounding louder in his ear with Venom listening in, equally interested.

His heart thuds in his chest. _What if’_ s circle around in his head like a flock of disoriented birds.

“Oh! Of course,” Dan says. “Everything’s fine. Sorry -- I didn’t even think.”

Eddie finds himself breathing a sigh of relief. He feels Venom’s immediate comfort like a weight lifted from his neck. Panic is not exactly _new_ for Eddie -- but he has little reason to panic anymore, now that he has Venom. Most problems are solved before they even have a chance to begin.

“S’okay,” Eddie says.

Because Dan’s allowed to call on days that aren’t Friday. There’s no reason he _can’t_. There’s no reason for Eddie to panic when someone calls him out of the blue. He never used to do that. Never used to have to _worry_ about that. But, apparently, being hunted by corporate goons does a little something permanent to your nerves.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this might look to you, calling out of the blue.”

There’s something about his tone that makes it seem _normal_ , that makes Eddie’s reaction seem appropriate. He can’t help but be grateful.

“S’okay,” Eddie says again, a bit more truthfully, this time. Appreciatively. Dan’s too nice. “What’s up?”

“Honestly?” Dan says, with a little laugh. “I’m waiting to get my oil changed and I’m bad at cooling my heels. It could’ve waited, but --.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s. That’s fine,” Eddie says.

“I do have something I wanted to talk to you about, but it doesn’t have to be now. Do you -- want me to call back later?”

_**Why didn’t he call Anne?** _

“No, now’s fine,” Eddie says. “Anne is --?”

“Anne’s meeting with a client. Really, if now’s not a good time --”

“No, it’s fine. Now’s good.” Surprisingly, Eddie finds himself _wanting_ to talk. Maybe because he cut his conversation with Anne a little short, earlier. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got a friend who works at that pharmaceutical company you’ve been looking into. She works for their accounting department, and was railing about how something fishy’s going on with her company, as well as some of their partners. I didn’t say anything about your story, but I figured I could give you her number, if you want an inside connection. If you don’t have one already, I mean.”

 _ **Aw. How thoughtful**_.

“Oh. That’s -- thoughtful,” Eddie says, because Venom’s right -- it is.

Honestly, he kind of figured Dan might’ve tuned out the whole thing about Eddie’s story the other night -- it’s not the most interesting thing he’s covered, not by a long shot. But news is news, and having a story means he’s getting paid, which means he’s eating, which means Venom’s eating, which means his town’s that much safer. Besides, Eddie did a lot of digging into pharmaceuticals when he was researching the Life Foundation, what feels like a lifetime ago. It’s like the story’s half done for him, already.

“Anytime,” Dan says.

“Oh, hey, Dan?” Eddie says, rummaging through his fridge to pull out something to eat. Venom’s hungry, which means Eddie’s hungry.

“Yeah?”

Yesterday, Eddie bought duck eggs from one of the farmers markets. They’re bigger than chicken eggs, which means they’re grosser to eat whole, but they’re higher in whatever it is that Venom craves. Sure, Eddie could _cook_ them -- but he’s never really able to stop himself from popping them into his mouth whole and crunching down, shell splintering in his teeth, raw egg sliding easily down his throat.

“Do they make artificial supplements of, uh, god V. -- what’s it called?”

“ _ **Phenethylamine**_ ,” Venom says, through Eddie’s mouth. “ _ **It is a naturally occuring monoamine alkaloid. Organic is preferable, but we require large amounts. Synthetic is acceptable, as a supplement to our diet**_. _Given our restrictions._ ”

Namely, that Eddie won’t just let Venom gorge himself on human brains whenever he feels like it.

Eddie pops an egg into his mouth and chews, holding the phone _away_ from his face, so Dan isn’t treated to the delicious sounds of Eddie’s strange diet.

He prefers quail eggs. Even chicken eggs. Duck eggs are just -- a little too unwieldy. Too big for Eddie’s mouth. It doesn’t help that he can hear the pop of his jaw opening inhumanly wide, can feel the way Venom’s teeth pop through Eddie’s gums and his soft palate, every time he eats one whole. But duck eggs are better. They contain more of whatever it is that Venom needs.

“They do,” Dan says. “But if organic is better, maybe we can come up with a meal plan for you. Set you up with a nutritionist and everything. Add supplements as necessary, but not rely on them.”

Eddie pops another egg into his mouth. Venom practically catches it in the air, Eddie’s head snapping back, jaw closing fast around the snack.

“That sounds great,” Eddie says, licking his lips. Trying to ignore the slime that lingers there.

“ _ **Thank you, Dan.**_ ”

“Anytime, guys. Really.”

\--

They're walking, because there _always_ walking. Venom leaves Eddie with this restless sort of energy, the kind that has him needing to stretch out his legs, the kind that's got him buzzing like he's always had a little too much coffee.

He's always hungry, too -- but he's learned by now that chocolate’s a good instant fix if he can't find anyone morally and ethically repugnant enough to eat. He tries to steer away from petty muggers or pickpockets -- people who are fighting against the institution or shitty circumstances -- and instead tries to go for those people who are justly repulsive, whose list of crimes Eddie can barely stomach looking at.

He also eats anyone who pulls a gun on him and cocks it. The sound is an instant trigger for Venom -- the people never even have a chance. Eddie never does either, to reign Venom in, like a burly, drooling attack dog.

Not that he feels too bad about it. Having a gun pulled on you? Kinda hard not to take that a little personally.

They always taste like gunpowder though. And that leaves Eddie with the taste of metal and ozone on his tongue for the rest of the evening.

_**You are being a pussy.** _

“ _That_ , again?” Eddie asks, rounding the corner back to his block.

He’s warm from the walk and a little wind-blown, too. Probably looks like a crazy person, strung out and talking to himself. Hair all a mess, hands in his pockets, and yakking away to thin air. No -- _arguing_ at.

_**You refuse to take care of yourself.** _

“I do not. I take care of myself just fine, thanks.”

_**Humans have basic needs. Yours are not being met. You require support and emotional ties. You require touch.** _

“Wow, okay, so are you an expert in human beings now?”

_**All carbon-based life forms on your planet share similarities.** _

“Noticed that while burning through hosts, did you?”

And _okay_ , maybe that was a little uncalled for.

Venom writhes underneath his skin for a moment and Eddie’s mouth tastes like bile, like acid, before he _feels_ Venom curl bitterly around the base of his spine.

 _Definitely_ uncalled for.

Eddie lets Venom sulk in his anger for a few minutes, though, as Eddie climbs the stairs to his place. His feet are heavy and his legs, stiff -- which he blames on Venom’s rage, his spite. He would never _harm_ Eddie -- but he’ll hinder out of sheer spite.

“I'm sorry, okay?” Eddie says, after letting himself through the door and locking it behind him.

He runs his own hand over his belly, at the soft cotton of the shirt there, like he's touching Venom, instead of himself.

_**Fine.** _

“I _am_ ,” Eddie says with a sigh, taking the couple steps to his couch before he flops down on it, face first into the musty pillows. “It was a little harsh.”

_**It was. But you weren't incorrect.** _

They don't really talk much about Venom’s past. About the creatures, about the people he tore through before he got to Eddie. About _Maria_. It's a little too raw, a little too soon.

Eddie knows Venom’s kind are meant to do that, to ride their hosts hard and put them away wet -- and half-consumed -- but he also knows Venom doesn't _like_ that. That he likes being one complete whole with Eddie. One organism. One entity. And Eddie knows it’s a touchy subject for them both.

_**I am only trying to look out for your needs, since you seem intent on ignoring them.** _

“Look,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I’m not ignoring them, I just --”

_**You are.** _

Eddie grunts. “It’s weird, V. Okay? This is a whole new kind of normal that I’m trying to get used to. Equilibrium doesn’t just _happen_. You have to give it some time. Have some patience.”

_**I have been patient. You are being stubborn.** _

“I’m being a _normal_ person about this. Normal people take time to acclimate.”

_**You are not normal anymore. We are extraordinary.** _

Eddie is tugging off his sweatshirt before he realizes it, tossing it to the side with a mild noise of protest. Sometimes, when Venom moves him, with something as simple as a suggestion, it takes Eddie a few seconds to catch up, like he has to _realize_ that he was not the progenitor of the action, that something was Venom’s idea. It should be annoying, but it’s not. Not really. Not when it feels so fluid, so natural. Not when Venom rarely makes Eddie do something he truly doesn’t want to do.

He’s still cold, though, because his apartment is always cold, and he’s not sure exactly _why_ Venom made him take the sweatshirt off -- until Venom oozes out of his skin and curls over his shoulders, trapping Eddie’s heat inside. It’s like being hugged from behind, like strong arms resting on his shoulders. Keeping warm, and putting a comforting weight on Eddie, too.

Immediately, the cold vanishes.

_**See?** _

“Okay, _yeah_. That’s pretty not normal. But it took a while to get used to that.”

He’s _still_ not totally used to it. Venom doesn’t spend too much time slithering over Eddie’s skin like this. Putting pressure, _interacting_. He’ll materialize and eat someone’s head, or he’ll send tendrils out to help Eddie cook or make coffee or grab himself a towel out of the shower. Occasionally, he’ll just hang out, becoming one with Eddie’s skin. Just existing in the same place, at the same time. But he doesn’t get _involved_. Doesn’t really _touch_.

Not like this.

It’s comfortable, though.

_**You don’t dislike this.** _

It feels -- for as strange as Eddie’s life is, these days -- normal. Like something they should have been doing all along. Natural.

Or maybe it’s just that it’s been _so long_ since Eddie’s been held that he’s starved for it. That he’ll take anything. Even a half-hug from the alien lifeform living inside his skin.

“Yeah, it’s -- it’s good.”

_**You like this.** _

Venom’s tendrils tighten around Eddie’s shoulders in a squeeze. A _hug_. An affirmation.

Eddie can’t help but sigh and lean into it, body going a little slack. He doesn’t need to worry about slumping or falling over on the couch -- Venom’s got him.

Venom’s always got him.

“I do,” Eddie says. “You’re right, I do.”

_**We like this.** _

Venom’s rarely wrong.

\--

Eddie wakes up in his bed, spread out on his back, covers a jumble around his feet.

Awareness comes slowly. Reality fading in around the edges of what had been shaping up to a really _nice_ dream. Something full of heat, full of desire, full of feverish intensity. He’s sluggish, brain wanting to stay in the dream, in the curls of dreamy passion.

Awareness comes faster, though, when Eddie realizes he’s being _held_.

He feels warm. He feels content. He feels safe.

It’s been so long since he’s woken up tangled up with someone else.

It’s a little strange. A little bit like something he didn’t _think_ he missed -- but did, terribly.

He feels so _aroused_ , too.

It’s probably why his body responded in kind. Dreaming up something carnal to fit the mold.

Eddie doesn’t even remember what the dream was about, but he yearns for the loss of it, hand snaking between his thighs to palm himself before he can even think about it. Before he even remembers his company. He grunts -- at the feeling, and at the realization, too.

He pries his eyes open, patchwork ceiling swimming into focus. He looks down then, at his hand, at the way it holds steady over the bulge in his briefs -- unmoving, but pressing, still.

It takes Eddie _too long_ to notice the coiling, swimming tendrils of Venom over his arm.

Venom’s so _normal_ now that Eddie barely registers his presence anymore. It’s certainly not _startling_. Perhaps it should be, though, when Eddie’s palming his _dick_.

Eddie groans.

Venom is quiet, but there’s no pretending he hasn’t noticed the situation. Not with the way Eddie’s forearm is swirling with him, shimmering and slick with Venom’s interest.

Honestly, Eddie _should_ just get it over with. Like ripping a band-aid off, fast and quick. He can’t live like this forever, can’t live the rest of his life without touching himself, without having sex. He knows he can’t -- knows, for whatever strange goddamn reason, that Venom thinks he shouldn’t either.

If anything, Eddie would have thought Venom might be jealous. Might not want anyone else to get involved, or somehow get between them. But instead, he just seems supportive. Which is maybe stranger, somehow.

The fact that Eddie’s alien parasite is the one who’s concerned about Eddie taking care of his needs is -- weird.

But.

 _Band-aid_ , Eddie thinks. If not now, when?

“Okay,” Eddie says, voice barely even a mumble. He feels a little drunk, just with how absurd this is. How stupidly nervous he is, too. “We’re doing this.” He takes a breath. Then, he lets it out “Hey, are we doing this?”

He can’t not _ask_.

Anything Eddie does is kind of a _we_ -thing. Especially with his body. There’s no tuning this out. No Venom pretending he’s not listening. It would be rude to just assume, right? Even if Venom’s brought it up before. This isn’t exactly hypothetical anymore.

_**Yes. We are doing this.** _

Venom’s tendrils nudge at Eddie’s fingers, at his knuckles. Eddie presses down, palming himself through his briefs, letting Venom’s touch guide him.

_**Feels nice.** _

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Normally, he’d close his eyes. Try and imagine something hot. But right now, he can’t stop himself from watching the way Venom tumbles over his fingers in waves, the way black tar ripples over Eddie’s forearm, over and around his wrist. It should be weird, it should be awkward -- but it’s kinda sexy in its own way. In a way that has Eddie feeling a little too warm in his own skin, heat curling pleasantly in his belly to sit alongside Venom.

_**Yes. More.** _

“Patience is a _virtue_ ,” Eddie says, but his words dissolve into a groan as Venom presses harder against Eddie’s hand, grinding his palm down against his hard cock.

Eddie doesn’t have to slide off his briefs -- Venom does that for him, tugging them down and then off with a quick and impatient pull.

Venom guides Eddie’s hand back to his cock, but Eddie’s the one who wraps his fingers around it. A huff of breath escapes his lungs as he gets the first pull in, relief and pleasure instantaneous from the touch.

The touch of Venom’s tendrils is not absolute. It’s a gentle push, a nudge to go faster, to grip himself tighter. It’s just enough of a dissonance from his own movements that it’s hot; the definite touch of _another_ , even though Eddie’s the one with the hand on his dick.

Back when they were together, sometimes he’d jack off for Anne. He’d sit between her spread legs, steady on his knees while she watched, while she told him what to do. He’d get a desperate hand around himself, fingers loose, until she told him to start, until she told him just how to touch himself. How fast to go, how tight to grip, when to stop, when to _come_. Sometimes she’d touch herself, too -- sometimes she’d just watch him with heavy eyes and a satisfied smile.

This is not unlike that.

He can’t help but think of it, even if he shouldn’t, with the way Venom’s urging his hand wherever he wants it, giving it to Eddie however he desires. It feels a little taboo, a little _wrong_ to letting his mind drift to an ex, but Venom doesn’t seem to mind. If he does, he certainly doesn’t _say_ anything, even if he can taste the tone of Anne at the back of his thoughts, at the base of his skull.

Venom falters his pace, slowing down for a moment until Eddie grunts and groans, hips arching off the bed.

“C’mon,” Eddie says, and tries to wrap his fingers more surely around himself.

Venom doesn’t let him.

_**We should have done this sooner.** _

Eddie’s hand tugs his cock once. But it’s not enough, it’s just not -- _enough_.

“Yeah,” he says, voice a goddamn wreck.

He watches, attention rapt, as inky tendrils snake out of his hand and wrap around his cock. Its truly _alien_ , the way Venom oozes from his skin and circles him, sliding over him, slick and wet. But it’s also familiar, too. A sight that’s so simple to Eddie now that it’s no longer jarring.

“Yeah, we _definitely_ should have,” Eddie says, as Venom’s grip gets a little tighter, as he ripples over Eddie’s skin in a pulsating, undulating pattern.

It feels _nothing_ like jacking off. Kind of feels like fucking someone, though -- if their body was made of a viscous, watery substance that’s the same temperature as Eddie’s body, a substance that’s curling around him like tentacles while still feeling oddly fluid. So maybe it’s nothing like anything Eddie can actually put a finger on -- but it doesn’t really matter, because it feels good. Because this is _them_. And Eddie’s never felt more whole.

_**Do you see what you were missing?** _

Eddie grunts, his fingers twisting into the sheets as Venom tightens and throbs around him.

“Yeah,” he manages. “Yeah, you were right. Always right.”

_**Good.** _

When Venom speeds up, Eddie’s hips arch off the sheets, body warm and covered in sweat. Pleasure ratchets up and up -- until it spikes, when Venom strokes him _harder_ \-- and Eddie comes with a shout.

It’s a _lot_.

It’s a rush that feels like it knocks Eddie’s heart clean out of his chest.

Venom’s buzzing at the back of Eddie’s head when he gathers his thoughts again, when the ripples of pleasure have faded from his limbs, nerves still alight and electrified.

_**That was fun. We really should’ve been doing that since the beginning.** _

Eddie grunts out his agreement.

When he can actually bring himself to look down at himself, at the mess he’s made, there’s a mass of teeth, something like a lazy formation of Venom’s smile way too close to his dick. But there’s a tongue, too -- lapping up his come, touch so light Eddie can barely feel it. Like Venom’s oozing it back into Eddie’s skin. Which -- gross.

_**Doesn’t taste too bad. Especially for being composed primarily of enzymes and citric acid.** _

Eddie laughs, tired. A little dizzy, too. “Yeah, not too bad.”

He doesn’t mind the taste, himself. But it’s been a while since he had the opportunity.

Once Eddie’s clean, Venom’s tendrils snake over Eddie’s skin, mapping the sweat-dotted terrain of his muscles and his bones. He doesn’t _appear_ , but he’s there -- a constant. Curling around Eddie’s limbs and squeezing on occasion -- his own version of holding, of kissing, maybe.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, when his voice comes back to him and his brain is a bit more settled. “That was -- real good. Holy _shit_.”

_**It was.** _

“Do you need to -- um. How do you --?”

_**Your pleasure is my pleasure, Eddie.** _

“Oh.” Well that’s kind of cool. It explains a little bit how Eddie felt like the pleasure was exploding inside him, how it felt better than it ever had before.

 _ **Let’s go again**_.

Eddie nearly jolts when he feels Venom slither down his abdomen, splaying heavy and wanting over his softening cock. It feels _good_ but it’s too much, and Eddie can’t help but whimper.

“Hold up,” he says, trying to inch himself away from the touch, even though there’s nowhere he can _go_. Everywhere Eddie goes, Venom goes, too. “Humans have a _refractory period_.”

_**You’re not a normal human.** _

This time, tentacles wrap around Eddie’s dick loosely, coiling around him and oscillating until Eddie’s squirming, making a wreck of the sheets.

“V -- _jesus_ \-- Venom, man, that’s --”

It feels _good_ , too good, and Eddie’s dick is hardening again despite the overstimulation, despite his nerves all screaming at once. He bucks into it, body lifting off the bed, Venom’s tendrils over him, underneath him, snapping him back down so he stops squirming, stops _fighting_. All the while cupping him, massaging him with slick pressure.

It takes too long for Eddie to notice the slide of a tendril up his left thigh, originating somewhere above his knee. It slides up and up, until it’s brushing against Eddie’s balls, sliding underneath them to tease at the seam of him, tip of the tentacle teasing against his hole.

“God, V --” Eddie pants.

This time, when he arches his hips _up_ , he’s not at all trying to get away.

Venom gives him everything.

And then more.

\--

Eddie wakes up late into the evening.

_**Hungry.** _

“Your fault,” Eddie mumbles, rolling over and tucking his head underneath his pillow. Trying to fall back asleep.

_**Food. We expended a lot of energy, earlier.** _

“Again, that’s _your_ fault,” Eddie says, but the more time passes, the more he talks and argues, the more awake he is.

Or Venom’s flushing his system with adrenaline and ridding it of any lingering melatonin. Either, or.

_**Get up.** _

They don’t have any food in the house, which means that Eddie has to pull on a sweatshirt and jeans and then _shoes_. He makes Venom tie them, though, because he’s still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he trundles down the stairs in his building, still wedded to the idea of being asleep but resigned to feeding himself and the parasite inside him.

“You know you’re real special,” Eddie says. “I don’t just wake up for anyone.”

_**I know.** _

Eddie can feel the thrum of pleased affection that glides over his skin like a wave. It’s affirming, gratifying. It’s all Eddie needs to feel well and truly awake. To feel _happy_ about what they did, earlier this evening. To feel like it completed something he didn’t know was incomplete.

_**You’re real special too. Now, walk faster -- we want tacos.** _

Venom’s right.

\--

Belly full of street tacos of varying meats and fillings, Eddie finds his feet stalling outside the entrance to a shop on their walk home.

Eddie blinks at the neon sign in the window, spots the rainbow flag, and the array of goodies in the window.

“No,” he says. It’s late. He wants to go home and then go back to sleep.

_**This place is called Rock Hard. What are all those things in the window?** _

“They’re for sex,” Eddie says, eyes lingering on a leather chest harness, on the _many_ bottles and varieties of lube. “That’s a sex shop. We’re not going in.”

_**It looks interesting.** _

Eddie groans.

_**Please, Eddie?** _

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Just for a second.” If only so he doesn’t get the cops called on him for standing outside the shop at 1AM, talking to himself like a crazy person.

It’s been a little while since he’s been into one of these places. It’s less seedy than the ones he remembers going to when he was younger, a little cleaner, a little friendlier. He offers up a passable wave when someone from the counter greets him, and then lets Venom take over on the walking front. So that he can browse and Eddie can try and just _tune out_.

_**What’s that for?** _

Venom catches his eyes on a metal butt-plug.

“It’s -- _jesus_ \-- a butt-plug,” Eddie hisses, voice low, moderately masked by the electronica thrumming from speakers by the register.

_**What is its purpose?** _

“Fun,” Eddie says. “It’s all for fun.”

_**To stretch? Or to keep things in there, like fluids?** _

Eddie chokes. “Both, I guess.” He feels flush, warm. Embarrassed as hell.

Venom looks quietly for a little while longer, until he drags Eddie in front of a hilariously large double-ended dildo.

_**What is this for?** _

“Ostensibly two women,” Eddie mumbles. “But I don’t think that’s really -- common.”

_**They reproduce in other ways?** _

“They don’t -- ugh. Biology lesson later, okay, V?”

Venom pauses him in front of many different dildos, making Eddie peer close at the size, at the texture. Eddie’s knees bend and he’s suddenly face to face with a comically large cock, some kind of -- hopefully -- gag party gift: an onyx black cock that’s gotta be at least a foot long and girthy as hell.

_**Ooh.** _

“No.”

_**That big? I didn’t realize humans enjoy that. I could do that.** _

“That’s not --” Eddie chokes out. “That’s too big. _Way_ too big. It’s not for _using_. It’s a joke.” Or so he hopes, anyway.

_**Don’t quit before you even try, Eddie.** _

Eddie wants to die, just a little bit.

Venom _oohs_ and _ahhs_ in front of a display of Bad Dragons while Eddie shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He lets Venom curl curiously around his fingertips as they walk.

They’ve _almost_ made it out of the store before Venom spots a back room, shelves lined with videos. They’re past the threshold before Eddie can even put up an argument.

Eddie’s never spent much time looking at porno tapes. Why would he, when the internet’s got everything he’s ever wanted, right there and easily available with just a click and the promise of at least fifteen viruses. It’s the _boring_ section of a sex shop, he thinks.

But Venom browses anyway, curious. Soaking up all the information he can.

Maybe a little intrigued in the whole subject, given how they spent their afternoon.

Eddie can’t really blame him.

Venom gave him some of the best orgasms he’s ever had -- and Venom’s never _had_ an orgasm.

They _both_ can’t wait to do it again -- Eddie knows that one for sure.

Venom stops him in front of movie that he actually makes Eddie pick up. It’s some masquerade orgy movie -- there’s gotta be at least nine different people on the cover of it, all scantily clad and donned in glittery, golden masks.

_**Like us.** _

He can _feel_ the spike of excitement from Venom.

“Like you?”

_**Our reproductive cycle includes a multitude of different partners. One writhing mass where --** _

“That’s okay,” Eddie says, quickly cutting him off. “You don’t have to explain.”

_**Fine. I will tell you another time.** _

“Humans usually have sex with just one other partner. The orgy thing isn’t exactly _common_ ,” Eddie says. He knows he doesn’t need to explain the basics of reproduction to Venom -- he _knows_ Venom’s been rooting around in his thoughts, but he also knows that some of the nuances probably got lost in translation.

Venom side-steps them down the way, away from the _orgy_ section, and closer to _threesomes_.

_**Clearly it is more common than you think.** _

“Okay, sometimes people have sex with more than one other person. It’s not _always_ a two-person activity,” Eddie mumbles into the folded hood of his sweatshirt. “Three is more common than, like, a _ton_ of other people. But it’s still not really -- normal.”

_**You’re not normal. We’ve gone over this.** _

Eddie grunts. “I donno what you’re trying to say, man.”

And then, so simply:

_**You could have sex with Anne and Dan.** _

Eddie jolts back and drops the DVD. It thunks against the carpeted ground as Eddie sputters, gathering himself for a split second before he picks it up.

“ _No_ ,” he hisses. “I cannot have _sex_ with Anne and Dan. That’s not how it works.”

_**Yes it is. You just said.** _

“No, Anne is my ex. You don’t just have sex with your exes. Especially when you fuck things up as badly as I did. And Dan is -- first off, I don’t even know if Dan _likes_ dudes -- but secondly, he’s dating Anne. He _likes_ Anne. Normally, when people like someone, they don’t want to sleep with anyone _else_. Much less the ex of the person they’re currently dating.”

_**Human sexuality is too complicated.** _

Eddie groans again. “Can we _please_ stop talking about this and just leave?”

_**I don’t want to stop talking about this. I don’t understand why you can’t have sex with Anne and Dan.** _

Eddie makes a noise through his teeth.

“How do I get you to shut up? God, V. Anything. I’ll do _anything_.”

And that’s how Eddie ends up walking out of the store with five different DVD’s about threesomes, specifically. And one orgy one for good measure, because it reminded Venom of _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay in getting this out. i didn't have an ounce of free time in the month of october.


	3. Local Disaster Not Ready To Handle Frantic Pace of Beach Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Subtitle:** Ex’s Current Partner "Too Nice, Too Hot, Too Dreamy,” Explains Area Man_

“Wait, _what_? I thought this was supposed to be a _day_ _trip_.”

An ‘ _Eddie_ _shows up for two, maybe three hours and then leaves’_ kind of trip.

“Dan’s family has a house in Sausalito. It’s his turn with it this month,” Anne tells him. “We figured we could go for a couple days. Get away from the hustle and bustle.”

This is definitely not what Eddie signed up for. Not that he signed up for anything to begin with -- which is sort of the _modus operandi_ for his entire life, at this point.

“It’s not even beach weather,” Eddie says, petulant, into the speaker phone.

He’s currently _trying_ and also _failing_ to make triple fudge brownies, even though he’s not sure what makes them _triple_ , much less what would make them _double_. Even the extra pairs of “hands” Venom provides -- when Venom feels like providing them -- aren’t exactly helping.

It’s _also_ not helping that Venom has him eating spoonfuls of cocoa powder dry, which is just about as pleasant as breathing in chocolate-flavored chalk. At least when it gets into his lungs, Venom takes care of it.

This is his third batch. And about his fifteenth spoonful of cocoa powder.

The first two batches were abject failures, but Eddie ate them anyway. Crunching through the bits of burnt chocolate of the first, and spooning runny brownie batter from the second straight down his throat, still oven-hot.

“It’s not surfing or sunbathing weather,” Anne agrees. “But it’s perfect for a picnic on the beach or for just wandering. It’s a really nice place for a weekend getaway.”

 _Light jacket weather_ , Annie used to always call it.

Eddie does not need to be included in their _light jacket weather weekend getaway_ plans.

That’s not a _normal_ thing. People don’t normally invite their ex-fiancés on their holidays. They _really_ don’t invite their ex-fiancés and their alien parasites.

“I dunno,” Eddie says. “I’m really busy, Annie.”

He tries to hold his breath, but doesn’t even get a chance.

“ _ **No, we’re not.**_ ”

“ _Gee thanks_ , _parasite,_ ” Eddie whispers, under his breath.

“Thank you, Venom,” Anne says. “So we’ll see you here tomorrow morning?” Anne asks, absolutely undeterred by Eddie’s lying.

It’s not _really_ a question. Eddie knows her well enough to know that. It’s the politeness of the tone, but the abject absence of any space to politely duck out, like Eddie so wants to do.

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t have any other options.

“Great,” Anne says, and then hangs up.

The third batch of brownies comes out significantly better than the first two attempts. They’re not burned, nor are they too liquidy, _and_ they’re pretty damn fudgy. They also _look_ good, which isn’t all that important, but it kind of is, too.

_**I don’t see why you’re so opposed.** _

Eddie doesn’t even bother to cut the batch into squares. He just eats it with his hands. It’s not like he’s trying to impress anyone at this point in his life. Venom already thinks the world of him, and he _loves_ it when Eddie eats with his hands.

“Look, it’s just weird, okay?” Eddie says, swallowing down what actually tastes like delicious triple-fudge. “It’s not normal, to go on vacation with your ex and her new boyfriend. Or for them to go on vacation with you. Anyway you look at it, it’s not normal.”

_**Our situation isn’t normal according to your planet’s standards.** _

“Yeah, and?”

_**You have accepted that just fine. Why should anything else have to be normal?** _

Eddie grunts. Sure, Venom has a _point_ , but it doesn’t make anything about it any less awkward. The whole thing’s gonna be a disaster, flat out.

_**You’re bad at knowing what you need.** _

Eddie throws his hands up in the air, like Venom’s right in front of him and not inside him, lurking somewhere around the base of his spine. He lets himself scream silently for a moment, and the wave of frustration passes a little faster.

“ _Look_ , it’s not like I’m not gonna go.”

Venom already saw to that.

_**But you wouldn’t go, if it was not for me.** _

“Yeah,” Eddie says, deflating after a moment. “Probably not.”

Maybe, just _maybe_ , Eddie’s glad for the excuse to go. For the fact that Venom won’t let him back out. Sure, it’s gonna be _terrible_ , but at least Eddie will get to spend some time with Anne. He’s been _missing_ their time together; the lack of it a raw and aching hole in his gut that just won’t heal. She always made Eddie feel like he should be better, like he should try harder. Like he should be a more put-together person. And he _is_ more put together now, but he can’t help but miss having that drive, that steadfast encouragement. Even though he knows he shouldn’t be a parasite like that. Not anymore. Not now that he’s got a parasite of his very own.

Strangely, he’s kinda looking forward to hanging out with Dan, too. With his kindness and his calmness, with the way he’s just so _solid_. And _good_. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate the guy, even though he probably should. He can’t even bring himself to even feel neutrally about Dan, honestly. Eddie _likes_ him. Enough so that he’s kind of happy for an excuse to see a little more of him.

Dan’s the one who gets Anne, in the end -- but they both deserve the perfection that is each other.

Maybe Eddie can just bask in the light of that perfection, for a while.

He deserves that much, right?

\--

Since Eddie can now make passable brownies that _look_ like a normal human being made them (even though they absolutely require the help of an alien), he and Venom make two more batches to bring to the beach house.

After all, he can’t show up to Anne and Dan, with all of their hospitality and kindness, totally empty-handed.

\--

“I’m not letting you ride bitch in your own car,” Eddie says, taking a large step back from the little blue convertible, hands up in front of him, like Dan’s trying to _mug_ him.

It’s a real nice car. A Porsche 911 Cabriolet: a convertible fit for all the gorgeous coastal highways California has to offer. A vehicle perfect for a surgeon of Dan’s caliber. A car really _only_ meant for two.

When Eddie was a kid, he always dreamed of fixing one of these up. Wanted to get his hands on a real old one and treat her nice. Make her his.

And Dan’s already got one. From the looks of it, only a year or two old. Still shiny, still cherished. Probably doesn’t need much under the hood, other than expensive oil and a tweak here or there from some experienced hands.

“Yeah, you are,” Dan says, and while his tone doesn’t really leave any room for argument, Eddie still _wants_ to. He feels _obligated_ to, honestly.

Anne’s going to be driving, because she _loves_ driving, and there’s no chance she’s going to pass up an opportunity to drive something like this peppy little thing around some tight curves and Cali highways. She’ll look good doing it, too, Eddie knows, just like she looked good on Eddie’s bike. Especially when she was the one driving.

Dan should be sitting next to her, looking cool and steady as always. In the front with his designer sunglasses, where he belongs. With Eddie curled up in the back, legs pulled to his chest. Extra, tucked away -- like a spare suitcase, like a family pet. An after-thought.

They’re going to dip across the bridge, duck into Golden Gate National Rec Area to admire the views and maybe stop for a picnic lunch (Anne and Dan packed food, because of course they did), and then they’re going to loop back to Sausalito for the rest of the day. And the night. And then, the next day. Eddie won’t be free until Sunday evening at the earliest.

“No way,” Eddie says. “It’s your car.”

_**I don’t understand why you’re being such a bitch.** _

Venom is an curious buzzing right underneath Eddie’s right ear. It tickles and makes his eye twitch, just a little bit.

Eddie’s being a bitch because he’s got _principles_. The kind alien parasites don’t seem to understand.

“It’s my car, and I would like you to sit in the front,” Dan says resolutely.

He takes a step closer to Eddie and it’s plain to see there’s no hesitation there, even though Eddie’s _dangerous_ now. Even though he’s come at Dan before. Still, Dan doesn’t spook, doesn’t even hesitate. He just puts a hand, firm and warm, right between Eddie’s shoulder blades, right below his neck, and presses him toward the car’s passenger door.

Eddie _goes_. He _tells_ his feet to stay put, solid on the sidewalk, but the second Dan pushes him forward even slightly, Eddie’s yielding. Shuffling forward. Letting Dan lead him.

It’s real fucking _embarrassing_. It’s probably all Venom’s doing, letting him back down all easy like that.

“ _Really?”_ Eddie hisses under his breath. Not like Dan can’t hear him, but _still_.

 _ **Eddie, that was all you. I didn’t even have to help**_.

Venom has the audacity to sound smug. He feels it, too, sending a whole-body shiver of it over Eddie’s skin. It gives him _goosebumps_.

“Thank you,” Dan says, once he’s opened the door for Eddie and guided him inside. He sounds actually grateful.

Like Eddie’s doing _Dan_ a favor by making the guy who owns the car sit bitch.

It’s not long before Dan’s climbing into the back, Anne following into the driver’s seat after he’s settled, house locked up secure behind them.

“Thanks for coming with us,” Anne says, fingers brushing over Eddie’s wrist before she starts the car.

He should probably tell her to stop touching him. He can’t help the way it kicks up his heart, the way it heats up the blood in his veins like he’s got _hope_. Like she’ll touch him more, if he only asked nicely. It just makes him feel _bad_ , like he shouldn’t still feel like this. Like he should get _over_ it. Eddie’s already got someone, something -- he’s already _whole._ More than, even. He shouldn’t yearn like he does.

Venom doesn’t seem to mind much, though. Eddie _knows_ he can feel the way Eddie’s heart is racing -- but he chooses not to make fun of Eddie for it right now, so at least there’s that.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says, not sure _what_ to say, when he’s still not sure how he didn’t manage to cancel these plans to begin with.

There’s a firm hand on his shoulder, fingers curling around the bone, warm, even though his jacket: Dan, leaning forward from behind him. He looks chill and cool in the backseat, this air of hot competence allowing him to do whatever, whenever. He’s just _that_ guy -- the one who is attractive all the time, just because of how decent and capable he is. Nonchalant -- in the way Eddie’s always kind of dreamed of being, but has never quite been able to manage. There’s no affectation with Dan, no pretending or posturing -- he’s just the _real deal_. And it _works_ for him.

Dan’s fingertips touch tense, tender muscle and Eddie feels himself shiver a little at the touch -- even though he’s actually quite warm.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Dan says, like Eddie’s doing _them_ a favor. “We appreciate it.”

“Yeah, uh, no problem.”

They both let go, retreating back to their seats as Anne pulls the car out from the curb.

The wind picks up when they get off the smaller city streets and cuts off any chance for more conversation.

“ _Thank god for small mercies,_ ” Eddie says to the wind, to Venom, head tilted to the window, so he’s only moving his lips for himself.

Venom wraps around his fingers, his hand, tendrils squeezing, holding.

_**You’re being overly dramatic.** _

“Gee _thanks_ ,” Eddie mutters as his eyes zone out on the world passing by.

Buildings blur past them in muddy streaks as Anne whips them through traffic. Eddie always liked driving with her, liked letting himself relax and lose focus in the passenger seat.

They cross the bridge and Eddie looks out over at the Life Foundation. At the shell of the building that changed his life. For the worse -- and then, for the better. It’s not empty anymore, though it was for a couple months. Hundreds of people laid off -- most of the rest quitting of their own accord. They’ve rebuilt the organization, now -- or are in the process of it. Something like that. Eddie tries not to pay too much attention to it, but he knows Anne keeps up. Know thy enemy, and all.

It’s not long before they’re losing sight of buildings and dipping into Golden Gate National Rec Area. Anne slows a little, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s admiring the scenery. Taking it all in. They slow down even more along the coast line, the speed-limit dropping down to a trundling fifteen miles an hour. But the ride is smooth and the sea breeze is refreshing, and despite himself, Eddie finds that he’s relaxing.

That he’s enjoying himself.

Venom is too. He’s slipping happily over Eddie’s arms in snaking tendrils, enjoying the wind. Eddie can practically feel him buzzing with the pleasure of it, the way the saline air enlivens them both, the way it has Venom humming in contentment, similar to the way he enjoys being on Eddie’s bike, even though they’re barely moving at all.

They park and climb around Battery Rathbone McIndoe. Dan explains some of the history to Venom while Eddie zones out and watches the ocean, arms leaning against old, wind-weathered concrete.

After a moment, Eddie feels an arm sneaking under his, looping through his own. There’s a tug and Annie’s pulling him away from the concrete, toward a path near the fort, through well-trodden grass, along the cliff. Dan follows along after them, hands in the pockets of what looks like a very comfortable sweatshirt, cozy enough that Eddie has a compulsion to reach out and touch. Anne leads and Venom moves Eddie’s feet until he’s no longer trudging, just happily walking along next to Anne, eyes out on the ocean, Venom paying attention to the path underneath his feet.

He feels _light_ after a little while, enlivened by the impromptu hike and the ocean sounds.

“Selfie!” Anne says, stopping them on a rocky outcropping.

Anne holds out the camera in front of her to get a shot of Eddie on her left and Dan on her right. “Shoot,” she murmurs, as they watch her try and fit Dan’s head into the picture while she stands on her toes.

Before Eddie can stop him, Venom’s out, grabbing the phone to hold it with one long tentacle, other tendrils wrapping around Dan and Anne’s shoulders to pull them close. In something like a hug.

“ _ **Smile,**_ ” Venom says, through Eddie’s teeth, and proceeds to take a series of snapshots by smashing the camera button.

The first picture is, admittedly, hilarious.

Anne and Dan look _shocked_ at the sudden alien touch around their shoulders. Surprised, startled, and a little ruffled, too. The second shot has Dan looking to the side, as Venom sprouts a head somewhere next to him, grinning back at Dan like a shark, smile wide and mischievous. After that, there’s pictures full of laughter, of something maybe like amazement on Anne and Dan’s part, and what Eddie can only truly name as relief on his own face.

The pictures are probably not safe to hang (much less develop), like, _anywhere_ , given that Venom is out in one way or another in all of them and he’s still kind of a secret from the government, but they’re _good_ , regardless.

“I kinda want a copy of those,” Eddie says, despite himself, despite knowing better. Despite how _little_ he thought he would enjoy any of this.

Because he’s laughing. Because he’s having fun. Because Venom’s out and smiling and rumbling happily along Eddie’s nerves, even as they’re pulling away from warn human contact, untangling themselves from the pose.

Because _they’re_ happy, the both of them. Two beings, one whole.

And Anne and Dan are, too.

“Absolutely,” Anne says.

“We can print them out on our photo printer when we get home,” Dan says. Oh. Of course they have one of those. Eddie still lives in the dark ages, sometimes, when it comes to things like that.

Eddie nods at him. The wind on the cliffs is blowing Dan’s hair in every direction. It looks soft. He probably uses Annie’s conditioner. Or maybe he even has his _own_. Eddie doesn’t really use conditioner, but he thinks, seeing Dan’s hair look so touchable, maybe he should.

In an instant, before Eddie can even really register his previous thought, Venom reaches out and ruffles Dan’s hair. Eddie swats at the tendril as Venom’s doing it, smile sheepish. “Shit, sorry, Dan.”

_**You’re not sorry. You wanted to.** _

Luckily, the voice only rings loud in Eddie’s head and not in the wind around them. He flinches anyway, like everyone else can hear. Like he’s just been _embarrassed_.

“ _Did not,_ ” Eddie hisses and Dan just smiles.

 _ **Just as soft as it looks**_.

The weird thing is -- Eddie doesn’t need Venom to tell him that. If he concentrates hard enough, if Venom helps out a bit, sometimes Eddie can feel things through Venom. Just like how Venom can feel things through him. It’s not _quite_ the same, Eddie knows -- but it’s similar.

And it can create one hell of a feedback loop in the right circumstances. Not that _now_ is a good time to be thinking about _the right circumstances_.

Dan just claps Eddie on the back, warm hand lingering on Eddie’s shoulder blade.

“No worries, really, bud. Venom’s allowed to touch me whenever he wants. Physical affection doesn’t scare me.” He pauses for a moment, considering, and says, “I mean, it might take me a _little_ bit to get used to the whole alien thing, but -- it’s fine. I’m all for it. Society tells men not to be affectionate with each other, but that’s just -- toxic.”

Eddie feels a little _dizzy_.

“Dan has four sisters,” Anne says. “They started him early.”

Maybe that explains a lot. Maybe that explains why Dan’s not _jealous_ over Eddie’s continued friendship with Anne, why he never got flustered at Eddie shamelessly going to Anne for help when he needed it. It also explains how easily Dan just reaches out and _touches_ , like he doesn’t have years of ingrained instinct telling him not to, that it’s wrong, that he doesn’t _need_ affection and that he shouldn’t share it, either.

Eddie could probably do with some of that freedom, but he’s never been real good about reaching out when he needs it.

Dan’s hand rubs his back a little, reassuring. Thumb pressing against the knots of Eddie’s spine.

Maybe -- maybe Eddie doesn’t need to reach out first, not if Dan’s already reaching out to him.

_**Nice.** _

Eddie leans back into the touch and lets himself smile.

\--

They drive a little bit longer, then stop at another overlook for a picnic.

For lunch, Dan made brie and apple sandwiches with some kind of fig spread, which is really just -- it’s a lot. It’s terrible, really, just how good they are, how much Eddie _enjoys_ them. Dan gives Eddie four sandwiches, which is three more than Anne or Dan eat, but Eddie’s eating for a ravenous alien too, so.

It’s all good.

“Isn’t it nice to get out of the city?” Anne says, once they’re done eating, as she’s snacking on grapes with Dan while Eddie sprawls out on his back in the grass of the cliffside they’re picnicing on.

He feels Venom seep out of his skin and spread out through the grass like a snake, enjoying the sea breeze and the feeling of the tickling blades against his mass. He could keep his eyes to the clouds, but he doesn’t -- instead, he just lets his eyes half close, lingering on Anne and Dan, and their shared little moment of quiet.

Anne holds out a grape close to the ground and Eddie watches with interest as Venom sprouts a small head with even smaller teeth and chomps the thing right out of Annie’s fingers. Gentle, but decisive.

She laughs as Venom chews enthusiastically, grape juice splashing over her hand.

Like that, still laughing, she feeds him another grape, and then another. Dan pitches in some chocolate, because apparently everyone’s a sucker for hand-feeding Venom.

Eddie’s pleasantly full and absolutely sleepy by the time they decide to head out, eyes half closed, Venom curled back around his arms like the ropes of an intricate tattoo.

He dozes on the way out of the park and toward Sausalito and doesn’t even remember to put up a fight about their seating arrangements.

\--

“Hey bud,” Eddie hears as his shoulder shakes a little, the warmth of a gentle hand nudging him out of a pretty deep sleep.

He blinks his eyes open and Dan’s blurry face comes into view, bright in the light of the day.

Eddie grunts and closes his eyes again. Five more minutes, right?

“We’re here,” Dan says.

_**Dan’s a very symmetrical man.** _

Eddie’s eyes snap open, startled by Venom’s _tone_. It’s too conversational, too carefully aloof to ever be anything close either of those two things. Dan’s still looking at him patiently through his expensive pair of sunglasses. Eddie blinks up at him and his cheekbones, at his own reflection in polarized glass.

_**He’s an excellent example of your species. Very proportional. Don’t you think?** _

“I _just_ woke up,” Eddie grumbles. “Can you wait like, _five_ minutes?”

“Uh,” Dan says. “We can leave you in the car, if you want?” The car keys jingle in his hand as he holds them out to Eddie.

Eddie groans again and pushes the keys back toward Dan with a sleepy hand that may or may not be more inky black than Eddie’s hands typically are.

“No, not you. Sorry. I’m -- I’m coming.”

_**What? It’s not like you just noticed. Why can’t I make a casual observation? You find him attractive; I can tell, Eddie.** _

Eddie ignores all of that. He climbs out of the car and grabs his bag (that Dan helpfully has already unloaded onto the driveway while Eddie was conked out) and follows Dan inside, presumably where Anne already is.

They find her in the kitchen, leaning against the marble countertop, drinking a glass of water.

“Do we want to get ourselves settled, take a rest, and then regroup?” Anne says. Her lips are shiny with moisture from the water clinging to her lipstick.

Eddie’s still groggy from sleep, from Venom basically blindsiding him right after waking up with thoughts about how _symmetrical_ Dan is.

And _okay_ , Venom’s not _wrong_ , but Eddie is definitely not alert enough to deal with that kind of intrusive thought right now. The kind where he’s apparently checking out his ex’s current boyfriend while he also can’t really stop himself from casually checking out his ex. Like -- just _how_ messed up is Eddie in the head?

“I think I want to take a nap,” Eddie says. “Long nights, you know?”

Not that he’s been working, exactly.

Well. He and Venom have been staying up late working on their _partnership_ , but that’s not exactly what Eddie’s about to hint at to Anne and Dan. They can think he’s a workaholic -- that’s fine.

“Real tired,” Eddie says, when Anne just smiles.

_**You’re such a loser.** _

Dan shows Eddie to his room, up two flights of stairs, one of them spiral. It’s a bright and open space with vaulted ceilings and a couple skylights. It’s right opposite what can only be the master bedroom, where Anne and Dan are going to be sleeping. There’s probably many more bedrooms around the place, but this is the one he’s given.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie says.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Dan says, hand finding Eddie’s shoulder again. One squeeze before he lets go. “But we’re here to relax and unwind. So -- make yourself at home, alright? Towels are in the bathroom, extra blankets are under the bed. We’ll probably take a walk later and pick up some fresh fish for dinner.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Thanks. This is -- nice. I appreciate the invite.” And it’s _true_. He _does_.

“We appreciate you coming,” Dan says.

And then, Eddie is alone.

_**Eddie**._

Well. Never _quite_ alone anymore. But Venom is different, somehow. An intrinsic part of him that Eddie is starting consider an extension of his _self_. It’s _nice_ \-- but it’s also not the same as having another human in the room. Never lacking, just _different_.

“Yeah?” Eddie says, pushing the door so it swings almost all the way closed -- but not quite. It’s open enough that he can still hear the distant sounds of Anne and Dan puttering around the house, getting everything settled. It’s a quiet sort of noise -- comforting, calming. Mundane. Homey.

He flops down on the bed, on his back, and stares up at the blue sky through the skylights.

_**You’re an idiot, Eddie**._

“What’s new?” Eddie says.

Despite the uneasy thrum of something a lot like anxiety in his gut, sleep finds him easily.

It’s comfortable here. Even if it’s new.

\--

“I made brownies,” Eddie says. “I wanted to bring something to thank you guys.”

“I didn’t know you baked,” Dan says.

“He _doesn’t_ ,” Annie says, skeptical. “You’re a fire hazard in the kitchen, Eddie.”

 _ **“We tried really hard,”**_ Venom says.

“There were definitely, uh, some failures,” Eddie says, placing the tinfoil bundle of brownies on the kitchen counter. It looks a little out of place in the clean, modern kitchen. He gets the feeling that everything here is in some sort of expensive glass dish and never just wrapped in tin foil.

Eddie wasn’t sure when to bring the brownies out, but before their quick walk to get dinner seemed like a good time. Besides, Venom had him feeling _snacky_. No time like the present, he figured. Now -- he’s just nervous about his unnecessary gift. Stupidly so, but still.

“I really appreciate it,” Dan says. “ _We_ really appreciate it.”

“We do,” Annie says, but Eddie knows she’s skeptical, still. Fairly.

“Here,” Eddie says, though hints of Venom’s voice slip in, making the word a little growly, a little deeper than usual. Both so in tune with each other and eager to share and show their spoils.

When Anne takes the brownie Eddie hands her, she breaks it in half to split with Dan. Her lips are caught in a half smile as takes a slow and careful bite. Eddie watches with too much anticipation as she chews, swallows, and then makes a face he doesn’t understand.

“What the hell?” Annie says. Her tone is a little affronted.

Eddie’s heart jumps in his throat. Or maybe that’s Venom, twisting around inside. “Is it bad?”

“It’s good?” Dan says, looking at Anne with confusion, brownie crumbs still sitting at the corners of his lips.

“It _is_ good,” Annie says, slowly. She takes another bite, this time a little faster than before. “It’s _really_ good.” Her mouth is full. “What the hell, Eddie?”

_**We did good.** _

“What she _means_ ,” Dan says, “is thank you.”

He’s already reaching for another, grinning, licking the crumbs from his lips with a pink tongue.

_**We did really good.** _

\--

“Okay, but _no_ ,” Anne says with a laugh, sticking her feet under the water spicket outside, ground-temperature water washing away the sand between her toes as she wobbles on one leg. “That’s not the way it works. Dan, please tell him.”

“I watch a lot of documentaries, Annie,” Eddie says. “I’m very informed.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the way that animal husbandry works, but I’m also not an expert,” Dan says.

Eddie nearly _beams_. He pats Dan on the back and then pushes Anne’s foot out of the way with his own. They’re getting sand and water _all_ over the deck of the beach house, but it doesn’t really matter because they’re having a good time. The walk did Eddie good. It loosened some of the tension in him, broke down some of the walls he had been trying to build around himself.

“ _Hey_ ,” Annie says, and kicks him back. Eddie nearly falls, but Venom helpfully catches him, wrapping tightly around Dan’s arm to do so.

It’s weird. Eddie can kinda feel the heat of him through Venom. It’s not absolute -- but maybe a little like he’s wearing leather gloves and the warmth of another body slowly bleeds through the second skin.

Eddie isn’t quite ready to let _go_ of Dan -- he’s still washing his feet from their walk back the beach, you know? So Venom doesn’t let go, just twines around Dan’s arm like an intricate rope. Supporting Eddie and stealing some of Dan’s heat in the process.

Dan is, as always, kind of unfazed by the whole alien thing. He doesn’t even _flinch_.

“I’m pretty sure there’s not that many documentaries about snail farming,” Annie says, because she loves arguing.

Eddie wobbles a little as he laughs. Dan steadies Eddie with a hand on his elbow, connecting them now at two points. Anne’s on Dan’s other side, tiny fingers curled into Dan’s other hand. It’s like one giant circuit, Eddie thinks, as he imagines an electrical current flowing through Anne, and Dan, and then through Venom and himself -- and then circling back again. A closed system. A feedback loop.

“Youtube videos,” Eddie amends.

He feels a little bit like there’s actual electricity strumming through him. It’s hard to tell, sometimes, if it’s Venom or not.

“That’s _not_ the same thing,” Annie says.

“It depends,” Dan argues. “Were they informative videos? Or were they clickbait?”

“ _ **They were boring,**_ ” Venom says, from _somewhere_. “ _ **Eddie watches boring videos.**_ ”

“So: informative, then,” Dan confirms.

Eventually, Eddie has to shuffle away from the spicket so that Dan can wash off his feet -- but Venom’s still holding onto him, which means that while Dan’s spraying sand off his feet, Eddie’s balancing him. Making sure he doesn’t fall down.

And honestly? Dan’s pretty _solid_. He’s taller than Eddie and a little more built. Which -- is kinda hard to see in the button downs the guy usually wears, but it’s real easy to see in the tee he’s wearing today. It’s a little damp with sweat from their walk, sticking to him in a couple different places, hugging his form like a second skin.

“Maybe Eddie _is_ the expert on snail farming, here,” Anne says, resigned.

“I was mostly curious if snails are a source of -- uh, phenethylamine?” The word comes out of his mouth a little too fluidly, which means that Venom helped. Not that Eddie’s gonna complain -- it’s normal, now, for them to act as a unit, for Venom to pick up Eddie’s slack.

“Not that I know of,” Dan says.

He wobbles a little and some of the cold water splashes against Eddie’s bare legs.

_**A waste of time, then.** _

“Hey, it was _interesting_ ,” Eddie says, because it _was_. Sometimes he can get roped into hours upon hours of things like that, sucked in with no sense of the world around him.

“If it’s interesting to you, then it’s never a waste of time,” Dan says, standing back up, done washing the sand off his feet.

Venom, _eventually_ , lets Dan go.

“As _interesting_ as this conversation is,” Anne says. “I make a motion for wine and dinner, now that we have scallops and a nice piece of fish.”

“Dan’s cooking, right?” Eddie confirms.

“Obviously Dan’s cooking,” Anne says.

“But I’m putting both of you to work,” Dan warns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the delay between this chapter and the last: brought to you by _Seasonal Affective Disorder™._
> 
> every time i post a chapter, i keep upping the total chapter count. whoops. (chp 3 was getting hefty at over 10k so i had to break it up.) 
> 
> anyway: if you're still interested in this, thank you for sticking around!


	4. Kitchen Song And Dance Found Responsible For Multiple Casualties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Subtitle:** _Area Man Distracted From Crush On Ex By Surprising New Crush On Ex’s Current Partner_

In the end, it's only Eddie that Dan puts to work. Anne supervises from a high stool on the other side of the breakfast bar, glass of cold wine in one hand, an occasional piece of chocolate in the other. Sometimes she'll eat a piece of it, but more often, she'll just hold it out for one of Venom’s tendrils behind Eddies back, like she's _sneaking_ it to him playfully, like Eddie can't taste the cocoa at the back of his throat as Venom gobbles it down, licking the chocolate from Anne’s fingertips.

She’s _supervising_ , she had said. Keeping an eye on them. Eddie doesn’t mind it, doesn’t mind her watching him with those blue eyes, apprising, as she takes measured sips from her glass. He doesn’t mind sharing the kitchen with Dan, as long as Dan tells him what to do so he’s not lost, as long as Dan keeps rubbing him proudly on the back, telling him he’s doing a _good job_.

**_Aw, you’re a sucker for praise._ **

Eddie clenches his teeth on a reply as he cuts the vegetables for the salad according to Dan’s instructions. Thin and even. He takes a sip of his own wine. It slides cool and crisp down his throat. Dan smiles. Anne drinks and does, too.

The kitchen smells like rosemary. Dan’s putting it onto the salmon that they picked up at the market, along with some other herbs Eddie doesn’t know by scent alone. There’s music playing softly in the background, though most of the noise slips away through the open window above the sink, blending together with the distant, drumming sound of the ocean. It's such a deeply relaxing, beautiful moment that Eddie doesn't know exactly what to do with it.

_**Just enjoy it**_.

Venom rumbles happily inside him, tickling Eddies lowest ribs with his contentment. It's a little contagious, or it must be, because soon Eddie is smiling, too, chest feeling a little too big on the inside, like Venom’s pushing outward, expanding.

Dan’s swaying a little to the beat, hips moving in a way that tells Eddie that the man knows how to dance -- and not just sway, but how to _really_ dance. Like salsa, maybe. Or ballroom. Maybe he and Anne go dancing sometimes. Eddie can picture it, the two of them moving as one, grinning and giggling, stealing the spotlight as they obviously would.

“Do you want to help cook the scallops?” Dan asks. He's suddenly right next to Eddie, fingers on Eddie’s arm.

“I'm really not much of a cook. You don't want that.”

Anne laughs from her perch. Her eyes are brilliant blue when Eddie looks over at her to make an affronted face at her laughter, but he can't even find it in himself to be mad, even playfully, when she's smiling like _that_. All bright and radiant.

“He’s right,” Annie says. “Remember how surprised I was about the brownies?”

“That’s baking, and it’s harder. If Eddie can bake, he can definitely cook. _Anyone_ can cook,” Dan says, taking a sip from his glass. His eyes look bright, too. Challenging. “It's a learned skill. It just means Eddie hasn't had a good teacher.”

“Well _I_ certainly wasn't going to teach him,” Anne laughs. “I would have made it worse.”

“It's really okay,” Eddie says, for fear that if he says nothing, he’ll actually have to cook and then he'll ruin dinner and also the whole evening, just as was starting to shape up as something surprisingly enjoyable, against all odds.

“No, no, you should know how to do this. I know you'll be great at it. I'm going to teach you. I'll help you,” Dan says, sliding a shucking knife into Eddie’s hand. His voice is a little more exuberant with the aid of the wine, even more confident than normal. “I'll be right there with you.”

“Um,” Eddie says.

“ _ **We would love to help,**_ ” Venom says, like a traitor.

Then, he snatches a raw, unshelled scallop, and makes Eddie crunch through it like some sort of abominable _sandwich_ , like that's some sort of punctuation, a trump card, like Eddie can't refuse when his mouth is full of shell and uncooked mollusk.

Which is half true.

Because if Eddie _really_ didn't want to do something, he knows Venom would back him up. Which means that Eddie can't _really_ ignore the aching portion of him that wants to help, that wants to be included. He can't ignore the part that wants Anne to keep laughing, or the part that wants Dan to tell him he's doing a great job. He can’t ignore wanting to be a part of this moment.

He washes down the remainder of the scallop shell from his mouth with the rest of his wine. He gets the feeling he’ll need the alcohol, too. Venom’s even letting him enjoy the wine, hindering his metabolism of it, leaving Eddie’s body to process it like a normal human would.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie finally says. “If you help me. I don't want to ruin dinner.”

“You won't. Besides, I think Venom would eat them however they're prepared.”

“ _ **They are best raw,**_ ” Venom says. “ _ **Because of the slime. But yes.**_ ”

“Gross, Venom,” Anne says, but she's smiling. She sneaks him another piece of chocolate like a reward.

Eddie refills his glass and then the others’ as he watches Dan grab another knife and two cutting boards. Eddie gets one, and Dan gets the other.

“So, the first thing you’re going to want to do is break the muscle membrane right up by the hinge, so that we can open the shells more easily without pulling anything apart inside,” Dan says. “Like this, see?”

He walks Eddie through opening the shells, scooping the scallops out, and then trimming and cleaning them. It’s easy to follow along and it’s nothing Eddie can really _ruin_ , so he doesn’t feel the same hesitation he normally does with cooking. Besides -- Venom’s pretty into it, maybe because he’s mostly taking delight in eating all the discarded bits.

Eddie cleans up the cutting boards and knives as Dan heats up a cast iron skillet. He spoons butter into it and Eddie has to stop Venom from reaching for the spoon to steal a oily, fatty bite.

It all feels very normal. For once, Eddie doesn't let himself feel too undeserving of the moment. Instead, he leans against the counter and relaxes into the feeling, folding into the soft space of it, letting all the hard edges of doubt smooth away.

As they wait for the pan to warm up and for the butter to melt, Dan turns the music up a bit. His hips sway as he cuts up some more herbs, as he drinks a bit more wine, as he steals a piece of chocolate from Annie’s fingertips. Eddie finds his mouth watering at the phantom taste of it.

The scallops sizzle when Dan places the first few in a ring around the edge of the pan. So they all cook evenly, he tells Eddie.

“Alright, so you're going to want to leave these on for a couple minutes and then you’re going to flip them,” Dan says, handing Eddie a pair of tongs. Then, he gently tips the pan around in a circle, getting hot butter up the sides of the scallops.

“How do you know when they're ready?”

“It's a feel thing. A texture.”

“I am going to _ruin_ this meal,” Eddie warns, but this time with a laugh.

Anne laughs, too.

“No, bud, you won't. I promise. I'm right here.”

Eddie watches the scallops in the pan with a frown.

“Touch them gently with the tongs,” Dan instructs. “Get a feel for them.”

Eddie does. They feel...like scallops. He says as much, and Dan laughs, coming to stand right behind Eddie, looking over his shoulder into the pan. Dan’s a pretty tall guy. Eddie's stomach jumps a little.

“C’mere,” Dan says. “Let me.”

Eddie goes to pass the tongs over to Dan, but Dan doesn't take them, he just folds his fingers over Eddie's and uses that grip to guide Eddie to poke at the scallops again.

“See? Feel how it's starting to get a little firm?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says.

He doesn't know what he's supposed to be feeling. All he knows is that Dan’s fingers are _really_ warm, and up this close, he smells like clove and sweat and the ocean.

Suddenly, Eddie is _hungry_. He wants to lick the chocolate off of Dan’s tongue, wants to lick the taste of herbs and salt and citrus from his fingers.

_**Your heart's beating really fast, Eddie.** _

Even in Eddie's head, Venom has the audacity to sound _smug_.

“So, to turn them, you're just going to --,” Dan says, and then guides Eddie's hand to move the tongs to grab one of the scallops, gently pulling it away from the pan to flip it so that it lands, char-up, sizzling away once more. It looks perfect.

“Just like that,” Dan says, smile in his voice.

“Just like that,” Eddie echoes, voice feeling miles away.

“Now the rest,” Dan says.

“I don't, uh,” Eddie says, feeling a little stupid and more than a little greedy.

Inside his head, Venom just laughs.

_**Just ask him to help you, Eddie.** _

“Uh.”

“Here,” Dan says, and then he guides Eddie through flipping the next one.

And then the next. And the next. Eddie doesn’t flip a single one without Dan’s help. He doesn’t even have the presence of thought to feel embarrassed about that -- just pleased, with the attention, with the help, with Dan pressed up behind him, looking over his shoulder to guide Eddie through such a simple task.

When all the scallops have been flipped, Dan only barely pulls away. He does exchange the tongs for his glass of wine, though.

Eddie takes a sip of his own, suddenly feeling parched.

“Another couple minutes?” Eddie asks.

“See, you’ve got the hang of it!” Dan says, proud.

“I wouldn’t say _that_ ,” Eddie says.

“ _ **Thank you for the help, Dan,**_ ” Venom says through Eddie’s mouth. He reaches out a tendril and brushes it over Dan’s head, like he’s ruffling Dan’s hair.

Dan just grins.

He puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder before pulling away entirely, getting the salmon ready and sliding it into the oven.

“You sure you don’t want to help, Anne?” Dan asks.

Eddie tears his attention away from the scallops to look at her. She’s grinning, eyes dark and a little glassy with alcohol, attention rapt on the two of them in the kitchen.

She hums. “I’m enjoying the show.” She takes another sip of wine. “Two men in the kitchen, cooking me dinner? No way am I passing up the opportunity to revel in this.” She waves her hand, like she’s being dismissive, but she’s not, Eddie knows. “Now, back to work!”

Dan laughs. “Alright, alright. Yes _ma’am_.” He turns back to Eddie. “Those scallops are probably done, bud. Why don’t you take them off and we can put the next round on.”

That much, Eddie can do. He takes the scallops off the pan and then covers them with tin foil. He even stops Venom from sneaking one. Venom doesn’t even get too put out about it, and helps him put the next round of scallops on the pan. This time Eddie feels a little more at ease with the whole process. It’s relatively _easy_ , actually, now that he’s gone through the whole thing with Dan.

But.

Greedily, Eddie kind of misses the way Dan’s fingers wrapped around his own on the tongs, the way he guided Eddie so easily, the way Dan’s heat seeped into Eddie’s skin through his side. If Eddie fumbled this, if he said he needed more help, Dan would give it immediately. He would stand right behind Eddie, he could get so close, Eddie could lean against him and --

_No_ , Eddie thinks, stopping his thoughts right there.

The warmth of the wine has really gotten under his skin, making his hands go all tingly, his brain go all dumb. He should probably _stop_ , Eddie thinks. It’s not really something he should be yearning for. He’s already being given so much. Lying to get more of what’s being shared so generously would be _bad_. Besides -- it’s _weird_ to want more, weird to feel like he so desperately needs it.

_**It’s okay to want, Eddie.** _

Venom’s words are so sudden and jarring that they make Eddie jump. The pan clatters against the stove, but it doesn’t fall. It just rattles enough for Dan to turn toward Eddie with a concerned look on his face.

“You good, Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, mouth a little dry. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He doesn’t _want_. He’s just a little starved for human contact, that’s all. And Dan’s a touchy kinda guy. It’s totally normal for Eddie to enjoy getting a little attention here and there.

_**But you think he’s attractive. As attractive as Anne.** _

“No,” Eddie hisses under his breath. “I don’t.”

_**Stop lying.** _

Venom pushes a flood of images and thoughts and memories at Eddie. It’s not violent -- more like a rolling wave -- but it’s absolutely unignorable. Eddie curses.

“I’m _not_ ,” he says, even though he knows he is. He _knows_ Dan is attractive, just like he knows Anne is attractive. But that’s just something that happens sometimes; you think your friends are hot. It’s just normal. A normal thing he has _got_ to stop thinking about, because it feels an awful lot like Venom’s fixating on this, which is making it very hard to not dwell on in his own brain.

He feels a little dizzy. And very warm. He blames Venom, blames his embarrassment. He closes his eyes, just for a second.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dan asks.

_**Eddie**_.

“Eddie, the scallops,” Anne says.

_**You’re lying, Eddie**_ , Venom sing-songs in his head, to the best of his ability. It’s almost enough to give Eddie an immediate headache.

Eddie clenches his teeth and makes a frustrated noise through them.

“Hey, bud,” Dan says, suddenly _right next_ to Eddie, voice in Eddie’s ear. There’s a warm hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and the heat from the touch immediately floods him, head to toe.

When Eddie opens his eyes, Dan’s flipping the scallops with one hand, other hand still curled around Eddie’s shoulder. He must have stolen the tongs back from Eddie at some point, when Eddie wasn’t paying attention.

“You seemed a little distracted, hope you don’t mind,” Dan says, like _he’s_ the one getting in the way. The one stepping on Eddie’s feat.

“Sorry,” Eddie says.

“Don’t apologize,” Dan tells him. “It’s really okay. You just seemed a little occupied. Besides, I said I’d help you, and I got caught up with the other food.”

“Venom,” Eddie says, like that’s an excuse enough. “We, uh. Yeah, sorry, we’re a little distracted.”

_**Yes, we were,**_ Venom purrs in Eddie’s head.

“It’s okay,” Dan says. “You did a great job with the cooking, Eddie.”

Eddie tries to ignore the way the praise distracts him from the embarrassment, from the dizziness he felt only moments ago from Venom’s taunting. He only barely manages, before Dan’s squeezing his shoulder again. “Look at these, Eddie, they look perfect. You’re a natural.”

Eddie whines. They do look pretty perfect. He’s _not_ a natural, though -- Dan had to rescue him halfway through.

_**Only because I was distracting you**_. _You’re perfectly capable, Eddie._

“Then _why_ were you distracting me?” Eddie says, faster than he can think about. He leans a little against Dan’s side, sagging with a bit of relief as Dam fusses with the contents of the pan. Dan doesn’t seem to mind either the leaning or Eddie talking to himself.

_**Because you wouldn’t stop being a pussy. I had to take matters into my own hands -- so to speak.** _

Eddie swallows.

Venom’s right. There Eddie was, daydreaming about asking Dan to get closer again, but steadfastly resolving to do _nothing_ about it -- and here’s Dan now, up close and personal due to Venom’s meddling, letting Eddie lean against his side like some sort of leech. Like a _parasite_.

_**That’s a term of endearment, Eddie.**_ Venom sounds very proud of himself.

“Oh my god,” Eddie says, feeling a little more than lost.

He feels better now, though. With Dan up against him, warm and solid at Eddie’s side. With Anne right there watching the two of them. Eddie feels content and safe, even though he also feels a little like he’s given in to something that he maybe shouldn’t have. Even then -- he doesn’t even feel bad about it, or even like he _should_.

“Help me set the table, Eddie,” Anne says, after a solid minute of silence, of just quiet music and sizzling butter filling up all the spaces in between.

“Okay,” Eddie says.

He lets Anne hand him the silverware and puts it down where she instructs. When he’s done, the table looks nice. Simple, but kind of homey, too.

When Dan takes the salmon out of the oven, it fills the space with the smell of lemon and rosemary and heat. Eddie’s stomach growls loudly, despite the chocolate he keeps stealing from Annie as she hovers at the counter. She playfully slaps at his arm when he starts moving toward the kitchen on auto-pilot, hungry feet taking him forward toward the delicious smells, mouth watering, teeth getting a little more numerous in his mouth..

“Let him _finish_ , Eddie,” she says with a grin.

The two of them watch as Dan plates the food. The salmon, the scallops, and then salad, lightly dressed. All picture perfect, all mouth-watering. All things that Eddie helped with, to some extent.

Once the plates are on the table, Annie finally lets him go, laughing as he and Venom slide hurrendly into their seat, practically kicking up dust behind them.

Dinner, in the end, is absolutely worth the wait. And it was most definitely worth the effort.

\--

"That's... a lot of rules,” Dan says.

Anne’s stretched out on the couch in the living room, feet and legs bare in shorts, twisted up in the way only she seems to find comfortable. Her skin is a little flushed from wine and laughter and she’s looks serene, like she’s at home. Eddie’s in a worn leather armchair to her right. Dan’s to her left in a matching chair, directly across from Eddie, looking more than a little confused and maybe just as drunk as Anne.

"Don't worry about it, I'll help you. We can be buddies," Eddie says. He’s maybe, _maybe_ more than a little intoxicated, too.

“You’ll have to move,” Anne tells Dan. “Eddie has to be able to see your cards if he’s going to help you.”

“I can move,” Eddie says.

“No, bud. I’ve got it.” Dan pushes himself out of his chair (why anyone would give up something so comfortable, Eddie has no idea) and shuffles across the rug to sit at Eddie’s feet. He even leans up against Eddie’s leg. “This okay?” Dan says, turning to look up at Eddie.

_**Definitely.** _

“Yeah,” Eddie says, feeling warm and too drunk to be embarrassed by the fond heat that curls in his belly at the casual contact.

Anne sits herself up for a better reach and deals them both in on the coffee table. She’s getting _ready_ , Eddie thinks. Eddie knows her, knows that she’s highly competitive at card games, even if she’s drunk, even if she looks deceptively relaxed. She’ll go easy on Dan for the first round, but after that? It’s no holds barred.

They start slow, Anne and Eddie explaining the rules and gameplay as they go.

After a couple turns of nada, Eddie looks down at Dan’s cards (which Eddie had arranged himself at the beginning of the game), then at the card on the table, and assesses.

"You need that card."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, see, look, it goes right here," Eddie reaches down and taps the space between two of Dan’s cards.

"Okay. But it's not my turn, right?"

"Say _me_."

"Me?" Dan says, looking up at Eddie. His brows are pinched in confusion, brown eyes looking warm and amused.

"Okay, now take the card. And take another card, from the pile. There ya go."

It goes on like that for a little while; Eddie providing guidance and occasionally re-sorting Dan’s hand, Dan soldiering along even though he’s clearly someone who doesn’t play cards all that often and is maybe more than a little lost. He’s probably a little too drunk to learn, and Anne and Eddie are a little too drunk to properly teach him, but it’s fun regardless. Chaotic and a little ridiculous and _easy_. Even Venom’s enjoying it, occasionally popping out to _me_ a card for Eddie, but mostly he’s just staying quiet, content to take it all in.

"Okay, so you have everything you need,” Eddie says, looking down at Dan’s hand. “That means you can go down."

"Like what Anne did?"

"Yeah. So you put your straight down. Okay, now your three of a kind. Keep the rest of your cards in your hand. So see, she has fours, and diamonds. So if you had a four, or the nine of diamonds, or the ace, you could put that down on her hand, but you get to keep the points."

"So if I had a four, I could go down on Anne?"

Eddie half chokes, half laughs.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Anne says from the couch as Eddie tries to remember how to breathe, delighted.

Venom laughs and laughs and laughs inside Eddie’s head.

Just as Eddie predicted, Anne starts to go a little harder on round two. They’re well into a third, maybe fourth bottle of wine at this point and Anne’s never been great at pulling her punches. She loves cards, and she’s happy to kick Eddie’s ass at them. Dan’s too. Eddie’s happy to let her kick his own, but he doesn’t want Dan to go down so easy. Not when Eddie’s trying to help him. Not when Dan was there for Eddie earlier, helping him in the kitchen.

"Me!" Dan says shouts, a little too loud, as Anne turns over a card.

"Why are you _me-ing_ that card? You don't need it."

"I was gonna put it there."

Eddie laughs a little. "That's not the same suit. They all... okay, yeah, take this card out, this is a heart."

"I thought I was doing it!"

Eddie reaches down and wraps his fingers around Dan’s shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. "You are, man. Just not with that one." Venom helps, wrapping a tendril round Dan’s wrist, fond.

Despite looking moderately put out only a moment ago, Dan’s somewhat-theatrical looking pout slips into an easy smile.

The third round, Eddie realizes that Anne had still been going easy on them both. It happens fast, before Eddie can barely blink.

She goes down and out in the same turn and holds her hands out for Eddie’s and Dan’s cards, grin wide on her face. “Pass ‘em over, boys.”

"Did she just...?" Dan says, looking up at Eddie with puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah, you gotta watch her. She's a shark."

"So I have to give her all of my cards?"

"Yep."

"But those are my points!"

"They're hers now."

Dan whines and rests his forehead against Eddie’s thigh. This time, Eddie and Venom both laugh and Venom ruffles Dan’s hair.

Eddie refills his wine glass and steals a piece of brownie from Anne, who has been hoarding them next to her on the couch. She’s been sharing with Venom, obviously, as he’s been keeping her company since the end of round two with a small head over her shoulder, looking at her cards. Likely, he wants to be on the winning team. Eddie should be offended, but he’s not.

"So round four is two three of a kinds, and one straight,” Eddie says.

"I think I got it. I'm gonna try this round on my own,” Dan says.

Eddie thinks Dan’s got it, too, has even been choosing not to look at Dan’s cards until Dan goes down and:

"Dan... where's your other three of a kind? Why do you have two straights?" Annie says.

"Uhh..."

Eddie leans over and gets into Dan’s space, picking up his cards and passing them back to him. "Okay. So this one's done, you keep that one. You can take this card and put it over here," he plucks out one card, moves it, and makes a double. "And then you just need one more of these. Get rid of this, and this, but keep this one."

"Why? I can't do anything with that." Dan’s breath is hot against Eddie’s cheek.

"Because Anne is collecting high diamonds and she probably needs it."

"Oh, vicious."

_“ **Two against one is unfair,** ” _Venom taunts.

When Eddie looks over at Anne, he sees Venom wrapped around her arm like a spiraling sleeve of ink. Venom’s head is still next to her face, grinning wide and cheshire, like he’s won some sort of prize. Or maybe he’s just a little drunk, too. He could clean up Eddie’s liver faster than Eddie could even say _hangover_ , but for now he’s still letting them enjoy the pleasant buzz. There’s a oily black tendril that snakes between Eddie and Anne, connecting the two of them, allowing Venom to be so far away. Eddie thinks it must look strange, but when he glances over at Dan, Dan only seems content to smile drunkenly at Anne like she hung the stars in the sky. There’s not even a hint of strangeness or unease on his face. Just warm contentment.

“Annie against anyone is unfair,” Eddie quips. “Besides. You’re playing with her.”

“ _ **Anne doesn’t need my help. She is the best at this game.**_ ”

“I like the company,” Anne says. Venom makes a pleased sound that reverberates all through Eddie’s nervous system. He feels Venom squeeze her arm a little, by way of a hug.

Anne punctuates her statement with another bite of brownie and holds out the remainder for Venom, who eats it gently from her fingers. Eddie rolls his eyes when Venom uses his tongue to lap up the stray crumbs. He feels Annie shiver through Venom and closes his eyes.

He hears Dan go through his next turn, feels Venom turn a card over for Anne. He takes a breath, and then opens his eyes, ready to keep playing.

To no one’s surprise, Anne wins the game. She gathers her three straights, going down and out, as Eddie and Dan pass over their hands with mostly-theatrical grumbling. Really, Eddie kind of _likes_ losing to Anne. She gets this air of hot smugness when she wins, when she’s making Eddie hand over his cards. It reminds him so easily of her in the bedroom, with her simple, straightforward way of telling him what to do. No frills, no games; just Anne.

Dan doesn’t seem to mind much, either, with the way he’s looking at her.

“More wine?” Eddie suggests, when he goes to take a drink from his glass and finds it empty. He doesn’t remember finishing it, but he must have. His tongue tastes like it still, and drinking more seems like a good idea. The floating feeling in his limbs and the ease with which he’s allowing himself to enjoy the evening are both things he kind of wants to keep.

“The bottle’s in the fridge,” Dan says. He shifts between Eddie’s legs and casts a mournful glance toward the kitchen -- he’s clearly someone who doesn’t want to get up. He’s definitely drunker than he was when they started the game. Drunker than Eddie, definitely.

Eddie pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man I’ve got it.”

“No, bud,” Dan protests. “I’m the _host_.”

He squirms, like he’s thinking about it, but doesn’t get up.

Eddie laughs and pushes himself to standing, taking care to let Dan lean against the back of the chair instead of against Eddie’s legs as he does so.

“You’re so good, Eddie,” Dan tells him, wrapping fingers around Eddie’s ankle as Venom slowly unwinds himself from Anne’s arm and slides back into Eddie’s body. Eddie picks up their wine glasses and gently pulls himself away from Dan’s grip, too.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, enjoying the way the warmth of the praise stays with him all the way to the kitchen. It lingers even after the wave of cold air from the fridge hits him, even after his fingers chill against the cool glass of the wine bottle as he sets it on the counter.

_**You’re having a good time,**_ Venom says, as Eddie fumbles around for the corkscrew.

“I am,” Eddie says, finding that he means it. He is, well and truly, having an _awesome_ time.

_**Are you glad you came?** _

“Yeah,” Eddie says, peeling off bits of the metal foil from the top of the bottle. His hands are a little clumsy, but it’s _fun_ , it’s enjoyable. He doesn’t have much of an occasion to drink anymore, so he’s grateful for Venom letting him have this, letting him kind of savor it. Even if it takes him longer to fumble with the corkscrew than it really should.

_**I am also glad we came, Eddie. They are good for you. Your people. Your herd.** _

“ _Pack_ ,” Eddie corrects with a laugh, though he doesn’t disagree, now. It feels _right_. Like an inevitability he had been too stubborn to acknowledge. It may be a weird family dynamic, but it’s _his_ weird family dynamic.

_**Yours.** _

“No,” Eddie says, as realization wriggles its way to the height of his consciousness. He pops the cork out of the bottle, victorious. “Ours.”

\--

When Eddie comes back into the living room carrying three re-filled wine glasses, each a little over-full, he stops a short.

Dan’s not where Eddie left him, no longer on the ground at the foot of Eddie’s chair. No, he’s on the couch with Annie, kind of wedged between her spread legs like he’s much smaller than he actually is, kneeling right in the V of her hips, and they’re kissing.

Well --

More accurately, they’re _making out_. It’s loose and messy and a little greedy, too. Their movements are dulled from the wine, and their inhibitions must be, too, because they’re not exactly _quiet_ about it, either. Anne’s making those noises she makes when she’s really pleased about something, like she’s hungry, and Dan’s huffing out the kinds of breaths that tell Eddie that they’ve been kissing for longer than just a couple seconds.

Eddie can’t move. He just stands there like a statue, attention caught, feeling like his socks have suddenly glued themselves to the floor. A little dumbstruck. His instincts have always been a little dumb like that, though: not fight, not flight -- but _freeze_.

He can’t stop _watching_ , can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

Eddie should be embarrassed, but he can’t find even a hint of that inside himself. Not even a lick of shame. Because, in the end, it’s _hot_ , the way Anne and Dan move together. They’re clearly so in tune, so in sync, just as Eddie had guessed at earlier.

_**Eddie,**_ Venom whispers in his ear, his voice low and quiet enough to not startle Eddie. _**I don’t think they’ve noticed us.**_

_Obviously_ , Eddie thinks. He doesn’t know if Venom hears him. Non-verbal communication is _hard_. It’s much easier to just talk at Venom like he usually does. It’s much less hit-or-miss.

Eddie watches as Anne’s slender fingers slide into a fist at the back of Dan’s head, getting a good fistfull of his hair. A low noise catches in Dan’s throat, muffled and mangled by the kiss.

Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about a hundred degrees in here, with the way he’s currently feeling.

_**Eddie**_.

He’s not exactly sure what Venom wants, other than he sounds warmer than normal, the timber of his voice in Eddie’s ears, lower. Like maybe Venom’s a little drunk on the taste of Eddie’s desire. He sounds like _want_ , pure and simple.

“Uh,” Eddie says. He coughs.

The glasses clink together in his hands.

With a jolt, Dan pushes back from Anne’s mouth and settles back onto his knees, eyes wide and trained on Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m --” Dan says. “Sorry, we --”

Before Dan can _actually_ apologize, before he can feel bad about something he shouldn’t feel bad about, like kissing his own girlfriend, Eddie interrupts him.

“No, it’s cool. It’s -- uh, I mean, it was hot. You don’t have to stop on my account.”

Dan’s cheeks flush.

Annie…smiles.

Then, she hums consideringly. It sounds _dangerous_. She _looks_ dangerous. Eddie knows better than to stick around.

But, before Eddie can excuse himself to bring the glasses back in the kitchen and go to bed, she says: “You know what would also be hot?”

Dan turns to look at her, clearly not familiar with the gleam in her eye. “What, babe?”

He’s the picture of a perfect boyfriend for Annie: attentive, devoted, and totally captivated by her. Eddie can’t really blame him. In this low light, with her lips a little swollen from kissing, he’s kind of captivated, too. No -- that’s a lie; Eddie’s _totally_ captivated, even if he’s a little scared of what she’s gonna say. She’s got a glint in her eye that tells Eddie that she’s feeling devious.

“It would be hot if you two made out,” Anne says simply.

Eddie thinks, for a second, he didn’t hear hear her right. When he looks at Dan, though, the guy’s turned an even darker shade of red, and is staring at Anne like he can’t believe her.

“Anne, that’s _mean_ ,” Dan whines, voice low enough that Eddie might not be able to hear it without Venom helping out.

_**Anne is right. It would be hot if you kissed Dan.** _

Eddie takes a breath, trying to steady his heartbeat. Venom is _definitely_ not helping here, with the way he’s writhing excitedly underneath Eddie’s skin.

“What? I’m right,” Anne says. “You know I’m right. You think he’s hot. And you’re Eddie’s type -- Eddie, don’t even try to argue -- I know you. It would be hot, is all I’m saying.”

It sounds like a _dare_. She looks pleased with herself when she meets Eddie’s gaze. Like a cat who got the cream. Her eyes so beautiful and he can’t help but get lost in them a little, but they also glisten with the haze of wine, the tell-tale cloud of alcohol affecting her judgement, her ease with words and ideas.

“Annie,” Eddie says carefully, heat boiling in his gut alongside the desperate churning of want.

“Eddie,” she says, matching his tone of faint exasperation. “It would be okay with me, you know. I’m not kidding.”

Eddie’s brain spins a little. It circles around on all the different crazy things that are happening right now and, like a record scratching to a stop, settles on: “Wait, you think I’m _hot_?” Eddie asks Dan, because he can’t _help_ himself. Because it’s easier to focus on _that_ than the actual matter at hand.

“I told you that in _confidence_ ,” Dan hisses at Anne. But he doesn’t seem too mad. He’s probably too drunk to be actually mad, actually. He’s got his hands on Anne’s knees, his face still flushed with embarrassment, eyes bright.

Venom is a rolling boil inside Eddie’s stomach, like he’s laughing. Like he finds this all too amusing.

_**That’s cute. You are not the only one who has been looking. See, Eddie?** _

Eddie feels the heat of a blush creep to his cheeks.

He should probably put the wine down.

“Eddie,” Anne says casually. “Is that something you would want to do? Kiss Dan?”

“ _Anne_ ,” Dan hisses, shaking at her knee. “You can’t just _ask_ someone that.” His voice is a little slurred, a little soft. Lacking the kind of assurance it normally has.

“I clearly _can_ ,” Anne says. “I just did.”

_**Kiss him, Eddie.** _

And yeah, okay, Eddie _wants_. He does. His feet itch to step forward, to cross the distance to the couch, and let himself fall against Dan’s lips while Anne watches. He can imagine it, can imagine Dan’s warm hands on him pulling him closer, can imagine the pleased little noise Anne would make from the side before she slid his fingers into Eddie’s hair. The desire is desperate, hot, and more than a little hard to ignore. But.

_But._

“Okay,” Eddie says, mulling up _conviction_ from god knows where. “Venom, can you sober me up, like, right now?”

_**It would be more fun if I didn’t,**_ Venom says, but Eddie can already feel the haze of alcohol evaporating before Venom’s voice is even done echoing in his head.

“Aw,” Anne says.

Eddie blinks and he’s totally sober.

“It would be so hot,” Dan says, a quiet afterthought. An echo.

It would be hot, yeah, but it wouldn’t be _right_ , Eddie thinks. Now that he’s sober, it’s real easy to see. Not that Eddie has any problem falling into bed with people when he drinks, but this? This is the kind of thing he can’t just do on a whim. There’s no way drunken fumbling wouldn’t turn out awkward in the morning, especially if Anne and Dan haven’t previously talked about it. And they haven’t, far as Eddie can tell, aside from Dan confessing that he finds Eddie hot.

But Anne’s not much of a talker about things, sometimes. Eddie knows she would much rather plow ahead, consequences be damned. And, usually? So would Eddie. It’s much easier, much more fun, and way more rewarding in the moment.

But this, whatever’s happening between the three -- or four-- of them? This is something special. Something that feels like it should be treated carefully.

Maybe Eddie’s just afraid of losing whatever this is.

“I think,” Eddie says, and it’s the hardest thing he’s had to get out all weekend, “that maybe we should all talk about this in the morning.”

“ _Eddie,_ ” Anne says.

“Wait, you’d want to?” Dan asks.

“Yeah, I’d want -- I _do_ want to,” Eddie says. “But I think that you two should talk. And then I think we should all talk.”

_**Not even one little kiss?** _

Eddie ignores Venom. They’ll need to talk, too. Even though Eddie gets the feeling that Venom’s answer to this will just be a very enthusiastic _yes_.

“That...that makes sense,” Anne says. Next to her, Dan nods.

“We’ll talk,” Dan promises.

Anne looks a little disappointed, but not upset. Thoughtful. Dan just looks pleased.

Only then does Eddie finally allow himself to move. He sets the wine glasses down on the coffee table and then crouches down in front of the couch. In front of Anne and Dan. He doesn’t give himself time to think about his next actions -- just lets himself act.

“Goodnight, Annie,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. It’s so familiar. So easy.

When Eddie pulls back, she’s smiling. Glowing.

“Goodnight, Dan,” Eddie says, leaning in to press his lips against Dan’s stubbled cheek, giving him extra time beforehand to pull away, just in case. He doesn’t.

_“ **Goodnight Anne and Dan,**_ ” Venom says, when Eddie stands up, pulls himself away, and reluctantly takes a step back.

“See you in the morning, Eddie,” Anne says, voice following him out of the room.

When Eddie tucks himself into bed, sober but still warm from the alluring _potential_ now simmering in the so near future, he feels good. He feels hopeful, for the first time in a long time. And a little nervous, too.

After all, Eddie feels complete -- because he is more complete with Venom than he ever was alone -- but now there’s a possible addition to that wholeness to look forward to in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took on a life of its own. yikes!

**Author's Note:**

> title from _only_ by nin, which, again, i feel fits the vaguely 2004-era vibe of this movie (in the most loving way possible). i am, if nothing, a creature of habit. sorry, not sorry. 
> 
> if you've got the time and the inclination, i would love a comment to hear what you think!
> 
> you can catch me on [tumblr](http://brawlite.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/brawlite), if you are so inclined.


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